


Art in Motion

by JustAnotherWordSmith



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, F/F, F/M, M/M, Slow Burn, artist Sirius, jily, musician Remus, pirde and prejudice au, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-05-19 04:45:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19349752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherWordSmith/pseuds/JustAnotherWordSmith
Summary: Enchanted by a musician, and haunted by the melody he played, Sirius is determined to get to know the mysterious young man. But Remus Lupin has secrets, and it'll take more than a charming smile and pair of pretty grey eyes to open him up.In this late 18th century au, Sirius is a disgraced and disowned young lord who recently inherited his wealth and title back, Remus is a musician just trying to make a living playing the songs he writes for the upper class at their parties.One fateful meeting sets them on a path that could change both of their lives forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am going to list possible trigger warnings for themes that will be mentioned/discussed in this story since I have realized it deals with some very dark themes and I haven't properly disclaimed that.  
> Also I will post trigger warnings before the chapters containing those triggers and mark when the triggering topics are mentioned so it's possible to skip if you wish (please be safe/mindful if something triggers you <3)
> 
> Tw: Alcoholism/drug abuse, torture/violence, child/physical/emotional abuse, suicide attempt/mention, homophobia, forced/arranged marriage

His collar was itchy.

That was the only thing Sirius could focus on as they stepped out of the carriage and prepared to enter the large manor before them.

“Remind me again why I allowed you to drag me out to this event?” He asked, tugging at his cuffs, wishing he could remove his coat and push the sleeves to his elbow. It’s not that he hated dressing up- on the contrary- he quite liked getting good and fancy now and then. But some days, some days it brought up too many memories.

“You allowed me to drag you to this event because you would have otherwise spent the evening moping around the house in your dressing gown with a bottle of my father’s best whiskey.”

Sirius snorted as they ascended the stairs. “Sounds far more pleasant than being trapped in dress clothes, tied to societies niceties and proper manners all evening.”

“Oh, lighten up, I heard a rumor that there was going to be a special performance tonight.” James said, lightly clapping his friend on the back. “Besides, we’re eligible young bachelors! We can’t spend all our time out on the estate.”

“Well, maybe you can’t, but I would be most content to live out my days as a recluse.”

“That’s a bold faced lie, you love attention far too much. What happened to Miss McKinnon? I thought you two were getting on well.”

“We were, and then we weren’t. Still on good terms, as friends.”

James nodded. “I see. Well, all the better that you’re here then.”

“Ah yes, so that I may bear witness to yet another rejection from the lovely Miss Evans when you ask to court her.” Sirius laughed at the indignant look that James shot at him as he handed the attendant his coat. The merriment and shedding of his coat allowed him to feel a bit more free. Alcohol would help make the evening even more bearable.

“She’s warming to me, you know.” James said confidently. “In fact, just the other day she said good morning to me, without a wry comment I might add.”

Sirius snagged a champagne flute from a tray as a servant walked past, taking a long sip before replying. “Well, I shall start to prepare my best man speech right away.”

James rolled his eyes. “Spare me, you’ve had one written for years.”

Sirius grinned. “That I have, and it is brilliant if I do say so myself.” He took another drink and then spotted a familiar face moving toward them through the crowd. “Peter! How have you been?”

The young man beamed and shook both of their hands heartily. “James! Sirius! How wonderful it is to see you! I’ve just got back from my travels in Wales.”

“Ah, that’s right, you were off to research was it? How did that go?” James inquired.

As Peter and James discussed his trip and the research Peter had done, Sirius finished his first glass of champagne and promptly snagged another, allowing his eyes to roam over the crowd.

He spotted a few familiar faces, not unusual to see considering they all ran in the same social circles for the most part, especially considering who their host this evening was. Speaking of, there she was now.

“Mr. Black, a pleasant surprise to see you here this evening.”

Sirius smiled and lightly kissed the back of her knuckles in greeting. “How was I to refuse an invitation from such a charming host as yourself, Miss Evans?”

She glanced at James knowingly. “And I’m sure Mr. Potter’s insistent nature had nothing to do with your presence here this evening?”

“You know us too well I fear, alas I have been caught. Forgive me?”

Smiling, she nodded her head. “Of course. It is good to see you out, considering the state of things recently.”

Ah, yes, there was the inevitable return of the dark cloud that shrouded him, refusing to let even a sliver of light or color last for more than an instant. Such was his life.

“Yes, well, distractions at Elkwood are limited and you know I can’t resist the promise of free food and champagne.”

“Indeed, that I do.” She leaned closer to him conspiratorially as she continued in a hushed tone, “And if you venture to the other end of the room, you’ll find there are drinks of a stronger variety, if you grow tired of the champagne of course.” She added with a knowing wink.

Sirius placed a hand over his heart. “James may have to disown me as well, for I fear I have suddenly fallen in love with you.”

Her laugh was light and musical, auburn curls swishing over her shoulders as she shook her head. “Mr. Black, you are a delight as always. Please enjoy the party, I must greet some more guests.”

He nodded his head as she moved on, setting aside his second flute of champagne before venturing to the other end of the large room in search of the stronger alcohol he had been promised. Finding the bar with little trouble, he poured himself a glass of whiskey and sipped, relishing the fire it burned down his throat and into his stomach.

“Sirius, why am I not surprised to find you next to the whiskey?”

He looked up at the comment, smirking a little at the elegant blonde standing to his left. “Miss McKinnon, you look lovely this evening.”

She smiled, brushing a hand over her skirts. “I know, but thank you for noticing. Pour me a drink?”

He obliged, handing her the glass and lightly clinking it with his own before taking another sip. “How have you been?”

She shrugged her shoulder, lightly toying with the diamonds at her neck. “Bored almost to tears, Dorcas has gone on holiday and left me alone with no one to gossip with.”

Sirius smiled. “Next time you want gossip, stop by Elkwood, James and I will put some tea on and we’ll discuss the most recent scandals.”

Her fingertip tapped lightly on her glass, an anxious tick Sirius knew all too well.

“You’re wanting to say that the current topic of choice is my recent tragedy and inheritance, am I right?”

“Well you aren’t wrong. But I wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up.” She fiddled with her diamonds again. “How are you faring?”

Sirius lifted his glass of whiskey. “Like I always do.”

Her expression softened, a vulnerability reserved only for her closest friends showing. “If you need anything, please let me know.”

He nodded. “I will. Thank you, Marlene.”

“Of course. Run along, now, I believe Mr. Potter and Mr. Pettigrew are looking for you.”

Saluting lazily, he smiled. “Yes ma’am.” It didn’t take him long to find James and Peter again, they were close to where he had left them, just a little closer to where the musicians were playing.

“There you are! Found something a bit stronger to drink I see.” James said goodnaturedly.

“That I did, have you talked with Miss Evans yet?”

Jame’s eyes lit up. “Yes! She graced us with her presence not five minutes ago, looking radiant as always.”

Peter smiled. “James was a proper gentleman, hardly stumbled over his tongue at all.”

Sirius laughed and offered James a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Proud of you, sir.”

“Very funny, changing topics, Peter was telling me all about-” Before James could continue, a clinking could be heard and the room fell silent, as if a blanket had been laid over the crowd.

Miss Lily Evans was standing in front of the musicians, her figure blocking that of a new one crouching behind her, fiddling with a small black case on the floor.

“Ladies and Gentleman, thank you so much for attending my winter solstice ball, the festivities have merely started, but before we enjoy the champagne too much, I would ask you to turn your attention to a very special guest performance. Enjoy.”

As she stepped aside, the person she had been blocking stood up, figure tall and slim like an aspen tree. Golden brown curls brushed against his collar as he turned to face the crowd.

Sirius felt his breath catch in his chest, not by the scars scattered across the young man’s face, but by the pair of deep amber eyes that gazed over the heads of the crowd as if he was looking beyond the walls of the room.

He wore no coat, merely a vest and dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. The reason for this becoming clear as he lifted a violin to his shoulder. His arms in position to play, displayed before him, showed that the scars not only traced his face and neck, but along his arms as well.

There were some faint murmurings in the crowd, no doubt speculating as to what could have happened to him to leave him so marked.

He didn’t seem to notice as he placed bow to string, and began to play.

Sirius was transfixed. The music breathtaking, unlike anything he had ever heard before. It was light and playful, like wind running through a field of grass, then low and deep as a river carving through stone. It was nights spent nursing wounds alone in the dark and days trying to forget. There was so much raw power and emotion behind each note, quite literally striking a chord deep in Sirius’ heart.

But it wasn’t just the music, the mysterious young man was himself the music. He swayed and tensed, every fiber of his being was playing the song, his soul poured out for strangers in such a selfless and beautiful way.

Sirius had never felt so full, and so utterly broken at the same time. It was as if the song had picked him apart, note by note, until all that was left were the pieces of himself that he kept hidden away, all the shards and bruises, the scared and the weak, the angry, the bitter, all of the ugliest parts of himself laid bare. But he didn’t feel exposed, or vulnerable. He felt…safe. He felt whole.

Too soon the last notes of the song were hovering in the air, the young musician lowering his instrument and opening his eyes to finally sweep the crowd. He met Sirius’ gaze for a brief moment, stealing the breath from his lungs for a second time that night before moving on.

Dimly, the sounds of the room came back to Sirius, his ears still ringing with the mystery man’s song. Applause, yes. Right. Applaude. He shook himself out of his daze and clapped along with the crowd, eyes remaining locked on the stranger as he bowed slightly, then turned to return his violin to its case.

“Splendid! Where on earth did you find him again, Peter?”

Sirius’ attention was drawn to his companions as Peter replied to James’ question.

“I knew him back when we were schoolboys! You remember my father sent me to go study in Wales for a year? Mr. Lupin was my dear friend, we’d lost touch a bit over the years but I just had to see him when I went to visit for my research.”

Sirius chanced another look at this Mr. Lupin, he was engaged in conversation with a few guests, rolling his sleeves down and fastening the cuffs as he nodded and responded politely. He answered all their questions, engaging with the conversation but in a somewhat distant fashion. Where was his mind at…

“-and he was always a brilliant musician you know, naturally gifted. He writes all of his own pieces and has started to play at parties and events.”

Tuning back in to the conversation, Sirius sipped his whiskey distractedly.

“Of course once I learned that I just had to convince him to come and visit, there are so many more opportunity in London than there are in the city he’s from, you see. I wrote to Miss Evans at once and she immediately agreed to hire him to come play for her ball, and well, here we are.”

James shook his head slightly. “He certainly is talented. Do you know how long he plans to stay in London? I’d love to have him out to Elkwood.”

Sirius’ eyebrows rose at that, the prospect of the young man coming round to his current place of residence was both an intriguing and intimidating prospect.

“I’m not certain, he’s staying with me at the moment, and I’ve given him leave to stay as long as he would like. You feeling alright, Sirius? It’s not like you to be this quiet.”

He looked up from his glass at the question, forcing a small smile. “Ah, I suppose you haven’t had a chance to hear yet. My uncle passed away last week.”

Peter’s eyes were instantly sympathetic, and he reached forward to place a hand comfortingly on Sirius’ shoulder. “I am so sorry to hear that, I know how close you two had gotten these past few years.”

Sirius nodded. “Close enough for him to leave me his estate and all of his earthly wealth. I am now officially a proper member of society again.” He added the last bit with a raise of his glass and a sarcastic smirk before downing the rest of the whiskey hiding at the bottom.

“Come on, Pads, we were going to keep the drama at home tonight, remember?” James said playfully, clearly trying to keep his friend in good spirits.

Peter chuckled a little and scratched at his chin. “I haven’t heard you call Sirius ‘Pads’ in a long time.” Breaking from his reminiscing, Peter brightened up suddenly. “Let me introduce you to Mr. Lupin! I’m sure Remus would love to meet you, I’ve talked quite a lot about you two you know.”

Sirius felt a rush of heat about his ears, embarrassment? Excitement? Perhaps both. He followed James and Peter as the latter led them through the crowd and over to where the violinist was standing.

“Remus!”

Mr. Lupin turned, his expression brightening when he spotted Peter’s familiar face. Up close, his eyes were even more mesmerizing, a soft golden brown that grew deeper at the edges.

“Peter, I had thought you’d run off and left me.”

“Never! Allow me to introduce you to my dear friends, Mr. James Potter, of the Elkwood estate.”

James bowed his head in greeting, straightening quickly and commenting enthusiastically. “An honor, sir! You play remarkably well.”

Remus ducked his head slightly at the compliment. “I am glad you enjoyed my playing. And the honor is all mine, Peter speaks very highly of you.”

A wave of unease suddenly washed over Sirius, and he found himself slipping away while James and Remus were being introduced.

The room felt stuffy, the crowd too tightly packed into the space, the noise and the lights assaulted his senses, driving the beat of his heart into a frenzy. He mumbled apologies and pardons as he pushed through the crowd, desperately trying to remember his way as his mind flooded with noise.

Finally breaking free, he found himself in a dark hallway, the sudden silence almost deafening. Taking a moment to catch his bearings, he turned right and opened a glass door, stepping out into the night.

Breathe.

The air was crisp, whisperings of frost were in the wind as it brushed a few stray locks of hair across his forehead.

Pathetic.

He wasn’t a child anymore. A twenty-year-old man should not be afraid of a crowded room.

Don’t close your eyes. Just focus on now.

Turning his head to the sky, he began to pick out constellations among the stars, it was something he had been doing for years, even when he couldn’t look to the sky itself, he had painted the stars on his ceiling so they would always be there. A bit ironic perhaps that he used the sky to ground himself.

Rolling his sleeves up to his elbow and popping open the top two buttons of his collar, he began to breathe a little easier. The wind picked up for a moment, pulling free more of his hair. So with a small smile, he pulled free the ribbon tying it up and let it fall freely around his shoulders.

He took a deep breath and let it out in a long rush, letting the tension from his shoulders melt away. Feeling lighter than he had all evening, he turned and headed back to the ballroom.

Sticking to the edges of the room, he snagged another glass of whiskey and observed the other guests casually. They had begun to dance, silken gowns swishing to and fro as the ladies sashayed across the floor, weaving back and forth through their gentlemen partners.

“Excuse me, but where could I find one of those?”

Sirius turned around at the question, ears perked at the accent lilting the edges of the rich voice. His eyes landed on none other than Mr. Remus Lupin.

“Pardon?” That was the only word that escaped the avalanche of thoughts suddenly in his head, and it took him a moment to clear them enough to think somewhat clearly.

“A glass of whiskey. I’m not much for champagne, I find the bubbles to be a bit-”

“Frivolous?”

“-irritating.”

The corner of Sirius’ mouth twitched up involuntarily. “I see, well if you find champagne bubbles to be testing on your nerves, you’ve certainly made a poor decision in coming to London. The city is filled to the brim with irritants.”

Mr. Lupin’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Really?”

“Oh yes, not only the noise and the smog, but the people-” Sirius shook his head. “-well, they’ll drive you mad. Especially the high class lot.”

“Mmm, I see. I guess it’s a good thing I don’t scare easily.”

Sirius swished the whiskey in his glass idly. “A good thing indeed.” Reaching his free hand forward, he smiled. “Sirius Black.”

Remus hesitated just a moment before taking Sirius’ hand and shaking it firmly. “Remus Lupin. You’re Peter’s friend?”

“As are you, apparently.” Sirius said, managing not to be distracted by Remus’ hands. “Your music is exquisite.” A rush charged his blood as he spotted the slightest shade of pink flush beneath Remus’ scars.

“Thank you, it’s the first time I’ve played that piece in front of anyone,” he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck absentmindedly, “I’ll admit I was a bit nervous.”

“Well you played beautifully, not a touch of nervousness about it at all.”

Remus smiled slightly, the hint of a dimple appearing in his left cheek. “That’s good to hear. “

A new song suddenly started to play, and Sirius, already four or five glasses of alcohol deep, shot his most charming smile Remus’ way. “Care for a dance?” The surprise on Remus’ face was thrilling.

He smoothed his expression quickly, one eyebrow remaining quirked up in question. “Two gentlemen dancing might cause a bit of a stir.”

Unwilling to look away from those chestnut eyes, Sirius’ smile only widened. “I think you’ll find, Mr. Lupin, that I am rather well known for causing a stir.”

The smallest of smiles flickered about Remus’ lips for a moment, but then he glanced away. “I don’t doubt it, but I’m afraid you’ll find playing my music in front of a crowd is about as much attention as I’m willing to draw to myself.”

Sirius let out a short sigh. “I suppose that is fair enough. Let me show you where the whiskey is at least.”

Remus smiled then, the first full smile that Sirius had seen from him, and it was like the sun had suddenly broken through a sky full of dark clouds.

“I would like that, thank you.”


	2. Chapter 2

James paused outside the old door, his hand raised, poised to knock. The hall was musty, dim, and had more than its fair share of cobwebs. He really should remind the maid to clean up here.

Hearing a crash from the other side of the door, he forewent knocking and opened the door. “Sirius? Are you alright? You’ve been-” He stopped as he walked into the room, taking in the scene before him with perhaps an alarming lack of surprise. “Good lord, man, when was the last time you slept?”

The ground was littered with paper, charcoal, pens, paints and various other odds and ends one might find in an artist’s studio. Sirius sat in the middle of it all, the chaotic eye of the storm nestled amongst his destruction.  
Lifting an ink smudged hand and waving it dismissively, Sirius shuffled through some papers to his left.

James shook his head and looked around the room, wrinkling his nose at the state of things. Sirius had never been the best at keeping his spaces tidy- probably the reason James’ parents had so graciously given him the attic to use as his personal studio when he had moved in years ago- but since converting the space into his bedroom as well, and banishing the maid from the premises, the wide open space had quickly devolved into a cluttered mess.

“Sleep is for those with nothing better to do.” Sirius commented, ducking down to scribble at the piece of paper he had finally settled on.

“When was the last time you had something to eat?”

“Food does not sustain me, I must work.”

With a roll of his eyes, James ventured further into the room, avoiding discarded items of clothing, art supplies and dirty dishes. “Come now, cease this madness. You need sleep, a good meal,” he stopped short of reaching him and blinked, his face scrunching up, “and a bath.”

Sirius looked up finally, his hair a wild mess about his shoulders, stormy eyes framed by dark circles. A few days worth of beard cast a shadow against his jaw. “Baths are for peasants.”

James snorted. “Peasants don’t bathe you twat, but you most certainly should.”

Letting out an irritated sigh, Sirius gathered the papers around him and stood up, nearly falling over as one of his legs had gone almost completely numb. James reached out his hands in case he tipped his way, but he managed to regain his balance and hobble off to his desk.

“What’s gotten you so worked up?” James questioned, attempting to peak at some of the paper’s Sirius had.

He slapped the pages onto the desk, turning around with a narrowed gaze. “Nothing.”

Knowing he would gain nothing pushing the matter, James let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. “Right, well, whenever you decide to become a functioning member of society again, I’ll be down in the dining room having supper.” As he turned to leave, he heard Sirius rap his knuckles distractedly against the desk top.

“It won’t leave me be.”

James paused, turning back. “What won’t?”

Sirius moved a few things on his desk around aimlessly. “The song. The one Mr. Lupin played.”

Raising his eyebrows, James waited for him to continue, and when receiving no response, prompted, “At Miss Evans’ ball? That was almost a fortnight ago now.”

Sirius paused, frowning slightly. “Really? I have lost track of time…” Shaking his head slightly he ran a hand through his hair, grimaced, and wiped his palm against his dressing gown. “I find myself incapable of thinking of anything else.”

“Is it the song that’s bewitched you, or the musician?”

Sirius prodded the corner of his small stack of papers. “They seem one in the same to my mind.”

James smiled, rolling his eyes slightly at his friend. “Well, as much as I enjoy my dearest friend locking himself away in the attic, pining away and creating a nightmare for my housekeeper, I think it’s high time we invited Peter and Mr. Lupin round to Elkwood.”

Sirius looked up suddenly, his eyes wild. “What? Whatever for?”

“Well you clearly want to see him again, and I for one am eager to get to know him better, he seems a lovely chap.” James fiddled with his cuffs. “Besides, it’s high time we had a formal dinner again, these rooms have been much too quiet.”

Sirius rubbed at his shoulder absentmindedly. “We haven’t had a party here since…”

They both fell silent. Taking a moment to reflect on the past.

Shaking his head, James said quickly. “At any rate, it’ll be good to have a bit of merriment around here again.”

Sirius crossed his arms. “Am I not merriment enough for you, James?”

With a completely neutral expression, James shook his head grimly. “You are a quagmire of self pity and dramatics. And I say that with the utmost amount of affection.”

Sirius picked up a discarded waistcoat and tossed it at James’ head. “Blasphemer! Begone from my presence!”

James laughed as he ducked the waistcoat and darted toward the door as Sirius searched for something else to throw at him. “Don’t be late for supper! And if you don’t show up properly dressed and cleaned up a bit I’ll have you eat outside with the horses!”

Sirius wailed as if he’d been sentenced to an unimaginable fate. “Betrayed! By my own brother! Oh the cruelty of life!” He listened to James’ laughter fade down the stairs, a smile ghosting across his lips.

He found himself humming softly, as he flipped through the pages on his desk one last time, fingers tracing his work thoughtfully. Swirls of color here, thick lines of black ink there, jagged edges and soft strokes, to anyone else it would seem just like the jumbled scribbles of a child. But he could see the spaces in between, they were just pieces to a much larger puzzle forming in his mind’s eye.

Tapping his index finger against the topmost paper, he let out a sigh and turned away from his desk, letting out a disgruntled grumble as he began to search for some clean clothes to change into.

~ ~ ~

Remus watched from his spot on the lounge, idly holding a book in his hands, as Peter scurried to and fro, collecting this and that and placing them in his bag, rambling on to himself as he did.

A smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he observed his friend’s excited behavior. They’d received an invitation for a dinner party at the Elkwood estate next Sunday, and Peter had been talking about it for days.

“How long has it been since you’ve been to Elkwood?” He asked, closing his book and setting it aside.

“Oh! It’s been…years, yes, years now. We used to spend summers there you know, back when we were all schoolboys. Sirius’ home situation was less than ideal, and well, with everything going on with my family, they were more than happy to send me off to the country for the summers. One less mouth to feed, you see?”

Remus nodded. “I see. Mr. Black had a troubled childhood?”

Peter nodded. “Very much so, the Black family are one of the most powerful families in England, they’ve held power and wealth for generations. Sirius hated their ideals and how they tried to force him to be. He left when he was only sixteen, went to live with the Potters at Elkwood.”

“Is that so? Are his family still living?”

“Aye. Well, his mother and younger brother at least, his father passed a few years back.” Peter shook his head. “He’s been through a lot.” Brightening suddenly, he smiled. “But he always pulls through! I was always amazed with how resilient he is, growing up he was always so strong and fearless.”

Remus smiled at the light in Peter’s eyes. “Sounds like you were close.”

“We were inseparable, the three of us, we even had nicknames for each other.”

“Is that were you had the idea to call me Moony?”

Peter grinned sheepishly. “Perhaps. I missed them terribly when I was away, but I’m glad I had the opportunity to meet you.”

“As am I. Was never one for friends growing up, there was always…too much.” Remus rubbed the back of his neck, his thoughts beginning to wander.

“I’m sure you’ll get on well with the lads! Why you’ve met James already and seemed to like him well enough.”

Remus pushed aside his thoughts and smiled. “I did. He’s very likable, I look forward to talking with him more.”

Peter practically beamed. “Yes! The most charismatic chap I’ve ever met, that’s James alright. Sirius is…well Sirius is his own brand of charming.”

Thinking back to his encounter with the young man, Remus nodded. “That I would have to agree with you on. I actually met Mr. Black at the solstice ball as well.”

“Did you? You didn’t mention it at all, not a word, you cheeky fellow. What did he say?”

Remus picked his book back up, shaking his head slightly. “He asked me to dance.”

Peter chuckled and snapped the clasps shut on his bag. “Ah well, Sirius has always been a touch eccentric, not that I would want him to change, not at all, I find him a breath of fresh air in this world. People are too caught up in how other people will perceive them that they fail to be true to themselves. Sirius has always been unapologetically himself, no matter what others thought.” He smiled a little, fingertips rubbing gently against the leather of his bag. “He helped me learn to be brave and confident in myself, I’ll be forever grateful to him for that.”

Remus flipped through his book until he came to the page where he had left off. “I must be grateful to him as well then, otherwise we may never have become friends. I never would’ve found the courage to approach a stranger and offer friendship, but I am glad that you did.”

Peter turned a little pink around the ears, sliding his bag first one way on the table and then another. “Yes, well, you seemed like you needed a friend and I-” He looked up and smiled a little sadly. “Well I know how that feels. James always used to say that it only takes one act of courage, just a few minutes of confidence, and you can overcome whatever you’re scared of.”

Remus nodded. “That’s a very clever way of thinking. I’ll have to practice that more in the future.”

“Speaking of practice, will you be playing at Elkwood?”

“Was there mention of it in the invitation?”

“I don’t believe so, but you never seem to be without your violin at your side. I suppose I was just curious.”

Looking down at his book, Remus shrugged a little. “I will bring it along, depending on how the night goes we shall see if I play or not.”

Peter perked up. “Excellent! I’m sure everyone would love to hear you play again, I know I never get tired of listening to your music.”

Remus smiled. “You should, with how much I work on new pieces, late into the night as well.”

“Oh no, never! I’m still not used to living alone.” His eyes darted to the fireplace. “It gets too quiet sometimes, so I find comfort in your playing.”

“Good, otherwise I’m afraid you wouldn’t stand much more of me.”

“Nonsense! I said you were welcome to stay as long as you like, and I meant it.” Pausing, Peter placed a hand decisively on his bag. “But, I will leave you now to your reading, I have some work to do anyway.”

Remus smiled. “Alright, see you at supper?”

“Yes, yes quite, enjoy your book.”

As much as he wanted to, Remus found his mind wandering off the pages of the book before him, deciding instead to sift through the information he had been given on those that would be his hosts the following weekend.

There had been something behind Mr. Black’s eyes, something that he recognized. He was carrying pain around with him, some kind of burden. Remus now knew it most likely came from his troubled childhood. That at least was one thing they had in common.

Finding no distraction in his book, he set it aside and reached for the violin case by his feet, clicking open the clasps and carefully removing the instrument. He hummed gently to himself as he tightened the bow hairs and applied fresh rosin to them.

Plucking out a few notes on the strings, he rested the violin on his shoulder and placed bow to string, closing his eyes for a moment. Taking a deep breath in. Out. In.

And then play.


	3. Chapter 3

It took them most of the day to ride to Elkwood from the outer city, Elkwood being a large estate out in the country, nestled among gentle hills and tucked away within beautiful forests, it’s own private little world.

Remus found himself thinking of home as he gazed out the carriage window, watching the hills and trees as they scrolled past. No doubt everything was lush and green during the summertime, a stark contrast to the greys and browns of the current winter season.

Halfway through their journey, Peter had fallen asleep, snoring peacefully, his head resting on his bag in the seat opposite of Remus. 

Since it was such a long ride to and from London, an offer had been extended for the young men to stay the night at the Elkwood estate and to return to the city in the morning. As they all would likely be up late talking and catching up, Remus and Peter had quickly agreed to the arrangement.

Remus’ eyes flicked back and forth as he tried to follow the countryside flying past the window. The fingers of one hand absentmindedly traced the scars across his forearm, the paths of smooth skin long since embedded in his memory. He would occasionally catch hold of an image of the scenery past the window, but then he would blink, and it was gone as quickly as it had come, his eyes already moving forward again to catch the next one.

He smiled as his companion murmured something in his slumber while scratching at his nose. Oh how he wished that he could sleep as easily as Peter, drifting off anywhere at anytime, completely content and at rest. 

Remus could only hope that their host placed him in a bedroom far away from any of the others. Peter could sleep through anything, and he was already aware of Remus’…

Remus shook his head. No. It wouldn’t do to dwell on that. He would only worry about it if it proved to pose a problem, but, until then, best keep it out of mind.

Peter awoke with a start as the carriage jostled over a particularly rough patch of road, sitting up with a bit of fumbling. As he blinked the remnants of sleep from his eyes, Remus noticed the buckle on Peter’s bag had made an impression into his cheek 

“Sleep well?” Remus asked, amused.

Peter ignored Remus’ question, rubbing at his eyes and asking one of his own. “Blimey, why did you let me nod off like that? A sleeping bloke makes for a terrible traveling companion, you know.”

“I don’t know, sometimes it’s nice to have a bit of quiet.” 

Peter opened his mouth to retort, the offended expression on his face fading away when he noticed Remus’ smile. Instead, he shook his head with a chuckle. “Oh sod off, you great prat.”

Remus laughed. “Thought I’d let you rest. You didn’t sleep much last night, I heard you pattering about in your room.”

“Had to make sure everything was ready for the journey,” Peter defended, rubbing at the fading mark from the buckle against his cheek. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

Taking a deep breath and letting it out all at once, Remus shook his head. “Not much. It’s alright, I’m used to functioning on little sleep.”

Peter sniffed, his nose twitching. “Yes, as shown by those great caverns under your eyes.”

Remus raised his eyebrows a bit. “Really? I didn’t think people noticed, I have some other more,” he gestured to the scars on his face, “eye catching features after all.” 

“Remus, you must take better care of yourself,” Peter said, ignoring Remus’ attempt at deflecting. “You’ll run yourself into the ground if you keep going like this.”

“I know. But I’ve survived this long, I’ll make it through.”

Knowing he shouldn’t push the matter further, Peter sighed a little and glanced out the window, immediately perking up. “I say! We’ve almost made it! Over there is where we used to play as children, down in that copse of pines we had built ourselves a fort.” 

Remus watched the cluster of trees as they passed, imagining three young boys bounding about between the trunks, splashing in the small creek running just outside of the forest. 

“If you look ahead, we should be able to see Elkwood round the next bend.”

As the carriage rattled round the turn, Remus craned his neck, his eyes widening as he got his first glimpse of the Elkwood estate.

It was an older house, nestled back amongst a sprawling garden.Although winter had robbed the plants of their leaves, he could tell that they were all neatly kept, but there also was a certain element of wildness about the gardens, as if life couldn’t help but thrive there.

As they drew nearer, Remus took note of the different types of ivy and climbing plants that had crept up one side of the house, giving the stone structure an almost soft appearance. The house was large, but not imposing as its simple outer architecture spoke of simplicity and practicality. 

The only unusual thing about the house, perhaps, was the bit of roof which was raised on one end. An enormous round window sat nestled beneath the eaves, facing the south garden and the road beyond as it wove toward the house. 

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

Remus nodded silently as they pulled up to the house and the carriage came to a stop. Collecting himself enough to grab his violin case and bag, he followed Peter as they exited the carriage. 

Their host, the head of the Elkwood estate, came bounding out of the house with surprising grace, smiling broadly as he greeted them. “Welcome! I trust the journey was a pleasant one?”

Peter nodded, setting his bag down so he could shake James’ hand.

“Yes! Very well. I must say, it’s good to be back.”

James clapped him on the shoulder affectionately. “And how excellent it is to have you! I dare say it will feel like old times again, won’t it?” His smile faltered a bit. “Well, for the most part.” The cheeriness was back almost as quickly as it had left, and he was already turning to Remus. “But we shall not dwell on such things tonight. Mr. Lupin, a pleasure to have you, welcome to my home.” He cast his arms wide in a broad gesture of the house and acreage beyond.

Remus smiled and nodded his head in greeting, having both of his hands full. “Thank you, it’s very kind of you to have me. Your estate is beautiful.”

James beamed. “Well, all the praise must go to my parents. They had a distinct vision for the kind of home they wanted, and I dare say they accomplished it.” Again, his smile faltered a bit. 

“Where’s Sirius? He’s well I hope?” Peter asked quickly, shuffling with his bags a little.

“You know Sirius, he must finish preening before he is to make an entrance.” 

Peter and James laughed, the latter turning to usher them up the front steps and into the house. “Come now! Let us continue out of this chill.”

Remus wasn’t surprised to find the inside of the house just as inviting as the exterior had been. The entry hall was bright and warm, dark woods and rich colors set the tone for the decor, and Remus found his shoulders gradually relax as the tension from the long ride and reflections of his past melted away.

“Shall I show you to your rooms? Rather, I could have a servant take your things there while we rest in the lounge until supper, yes? Or, perhaps you’re famished from the journey and would prefer to dine early?”

Peter laughed a little at James’ stream of questions. “Relax, James. Why don’t we go to our rooms and freshen up a bit before supper?” 

Ruffling his hair with a slightly sheepish smile, James nodded. “Right, of course. I’m not quite used to being a host, I suppose it’s set me a bit off. Let me show you to your rooms!” 

Remus trailed behind Peter as they followed James upstairs and off into the west wing of the house. Remus glanced out of windows as he passed them, admiring the grounds outside, expansive and beautiful.

“Here is your room, Peter, and I have Mr. Lupin just down the hall there, in the Oak room.” 

Remus turned from where he had been looking down into a little courtyard with a bubbling fountain, and smiled a little at James. “Remus, please.”

James grinned. “Remus, right. And please, call me James. We’re acquainted enough to be casual with one another I believe. And any friend of Peter’s is a friend of mine! Allow me to show you your room.”

As Peter disappeared into his own bedroom, James led Remus down the hall and into a side room overlooking the back garden. There was an ancient oak tree just outside the window, it’s thick branches framing the view as it stretched above the house.

“I trust you’ll find everything to your liking? There’s a bathroom just down the hall - that door we passed on the right - and a wardrobe there for your things.”

Remus felt a rush of bittersweet warmth wash over him. The room was beautiful, cozy and bright. And James was so eager to welcome him into his home, his kindness and openness filled Remus with a pleasant sort of ache. “Thank you.” Remus set his bags down on the chaise at the foot of the bed and turned to James. 

The other man seemed a bit bashful for a moment, a side Remus had not yet seen of him. “You’re most welcome. Ah… take all the time you need, rest, freshen up, whatever suits you best. Supper will be served at half past eight.”

“Half past eight it is then.” 

James smiled one last time and excused himself from the room, leaving Remus to himself.

He stood in the room for a few minutes, letting the silence cover him like a blanket. It was the pleasant sort of quiet, like a garden at midday, when the sun is almost too hot, but there is just enough of a breeze to keep you from overheating.

Feeling lighter than he had in awhile, he moved over to the window and pulled open the fastenings, swinging the window out and breathing in the evening air deeply. It was crisp and a bit damp, the promise of snow laying heavily in the air.

The oak tree had one large branch stretched out beneath his window, and, if he felt inclined, he could merely slip out the windowsill and into the broad embrace of the tree.

The sun was setting, and Remus had a perfect view of the glorious burst of colors as bolts of red and orange pierced the haze of clouds, the final breaths of daylight bathing the land in a soft ember glow. 

Closing his eyes, he basked in the last traces of warmth from the sun, smiling softly as he felt the rays against his skin. In moments like this, he could forget. He could be perfectly at peace.

He was whole.

But soon the sun had laid to rest beyond the horizon, and the full force of the winter chill settled into the air. A shiver shook Remus - he rubbed at his arm a bit before pulling the window closed and fastening the latch. 

He should wash up before supper… And probably change into some fresh clothes. 

Turning from the window, he set about trying to make himself more presentable. There was a wash basin on one end of the room, a mirror hanging above it.

Remus avoided the mirror as best he could while washing up, only glancing in it briefly to make sure his hair wasn’t a frightful sight. He caught his reflection’s gaze, and stayed there for a moment, wondering if others saw what he did when they looked in his eyes.

Shaking his head, he turned from the mirror and changed into a fresh shirt and vest. He would need to purchase some more clothes while in London - his wardrobe was sadly lacking in comparison to most of the people he passed on the street. But that was something to worry about another day; for now, he needed to decide what to do while he waited for dinner.

A brief exploration of his room shaved off a few minutes, but he still had almost half an hour before he would venture down to the dining room. His eyes landed on his violin case, his fingers twitching slightly against his leg. It wouldn’t be proper to play in another person’s home without permission.

Taking a breath, Remus decided to go through his notes instead, sitting on the bed as he flipped through the old, worn leather notebook that he kept with him. Across the pages were neat lines, notes, and markings along the edges, indicating changes or specifications in the song.

It wasn’t proper sheet music, and he doubted any musician but himself would be able to read the notes, but that was rather the point. His songs were his own, as much a part of him as anything else. For the most part, he kept them all inside his head, but every now and then he would write down bits or pieces to help remind himself.

The song he played at the solstice ball had been one of the first he had ever written. He flipped back to one of the earliest pages in the notebook, his calloused fingers running over the ink slowly before they reached the title written up at the top of the page. There they stopped. And there they stayed.

“The Moon”.

His eyelashes fluttered, almost as if in an attempt to block the words from view. But he could not look away. It held him captive there, as it always had, and as it always would.

He shut the notebook with a snap, blinking rapidly as he lifted his head and let out a shaky breath.

It only occurred to him after he left the room, that he had no idea where the dining room was located. He stood at the end of the hall - which split off into a different hallway - and tried desperately to remember the way that James had led them in. He’d already checked Peter’s room, but his friend was absent, no doubt already waiting for him in the dining room.

“Care for a map?”

He turned to the voice, his surprise leaving him as he saw it was none other than Sirius Black, standing - well, more like leaning - against the carved rail of a steep staircase. 

“I’m not used to houses this large,” he said, a bit embarrassed.

Sirius didn’t seem bothered by his answer - instead, he pushed his shoulder off the wall, hopped down the last couple of stairs, and sauntered over to Remus, hands clasped casually behind his back. “They’re like mazes if you’re unfamiliar with them.” Coming to a stop beside Remus, he leaned confidentially toward him. “Truth be told, it took me nearly four months until I could navigate the halls without getting lost.”

This was the first time Remus was so close to Sirius that he could see his eyes properly. Even in the dim hallway they glinted like steel, a storm of silver and the palest of blues that spoke of things heavy and dark, weighed down by a wisdom and pain that would be more fitting in the eyes of an old soldier than those of a young aristocrat. 

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t have four months to memorize the layout of the house. Perhaps you could show me the way to the dining room?”

The corner of Sirius’ lips pulled into his lazy, one-sided smile as he shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose I might be so inclined, as that is where I was venturing.” 

They started down the second hall, Remus nearly running into Sirius’ back as he stopped suddenly, turning back to look Remus over with a slight frown. Before the full flush of embarrassment could settle in, Sirius asked, “Did you not bring your violin?”

Remus blinked, confused by Sirius’ suddenly intense gaze. “I did… it’s in my room.” He watched Sirius as thoughts flicked through his mind as quickly as a hummingbird’s wings. He displayed his mind and emotions so openly across his features, but Remus could not decipher them. Sirius Black was an open book written in a language Remus did not know.

“Would you bring it with you downstairs? I’m sure James was hoping to hear you play after supper, and it would save a journey back through the labyrinth.” 

There was something guarded in the way he asked it, as if he was almost afraid Remus would say no.

“Of course, I’ll just go grab it,” he obliged, turning back toward his room. 

Sirius trailed behind him, still casually keeping his hands clasped behind his back, offhandedly humming to himself. It was probably all in Remus’ head, but the tune sounded very similar to his own song.

After retrieving the violin, he followed Sirius back out and through the house, trying to commit the layout to memory, but failing as Sirius started to talk to him.

“How long have you played?”

“Since I was a child, maybe around seven or eight years old.”

“Do you play any other instruments, or just the violin?”

“I can pick my way around a piano. And I have minimal luck with other strings, like the cello.”

Sirius spun around, his hair - which hung loose around his shoulders - fanned out with the sudden movement, a few stray waves whipping across his face. He didn’t seem to notice. “We have an excellent pianoforte in the drawing room! Such a lovely sound, and the acoustics in the room are quite good.”

Remus smiled slightly, amused, as Sirius continued to walk backwards down the hall. “Do you play?”

“I’ve been trained on the pianoforte, yes, although my skills as a musician pale in comparison to your own.” 

“Comparing one artist to another is like comparing summer to winter, everyone will have their own preference, but that doesn’t make one better over the other.”

Sirius laughed lightly at this, spinning around to face forward again. “Sage words. Are you sure you aren’t a poet as well?” 

Remus felt the tips of his ears burn. “Do you tease all your guests like this?”

Sirius hummed thoughtfully and then glanced over his shoulders. “No.”

Before Remus could attempt to pick apart his meaning behind this, Sirius pulled open a pair of carved dark wood doors. “Here we are! Prongs! Wormtail! I trust you were not waiting long, my good lads?”

James and Peter looked up from where they were sitting, James springing to his feet as they entered the room. “Not at all! Supper is just about ready, come have a seat.”

Peter smiled sheepishly at Remus as he took a seat beside him. “Sorry, Remus, I didn’t even think about you not knowing your way. I’m so used to the house, you see.”

Remus shook his head reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it. I found my way.” His eyes met Sirius’ across the table for a brief moment, an unknown thought tugging at the back of his mind.

“Right! Shall we eat?” James said, practically bouncing out of his seat to ring a small bell that signaled to the staff that they were ready.


	4. Chapter 4

After a rich supper of roasted pheasant and enough side dishes to feed a large family, they had retired to a comfortable sitting room for drinks. Conversation over dinner had consisted mostly of Peter, James, and Sirius all reminiscing and merrily sharing some of their favorite stories with Remus. He’d heard the daring tale of Peter and the Lady of Greyhaven’s missing cat, the escapades of the summer in their fourth year of school, and the time Sirius and James had managed to sneak into one of the most exclusive parties ever held, hosted only once every five years by the Duke of Cadogan, they somehow managed to slip away undetected with the Duke’s prize pony. They returned the pet a few days later of course, none the worse for his little adventure.

Remus had remained quiet for the most part, letting the other young men have their space, keeping part of the conversation politely with comments and answers to questions directed his way.

Sirius had at first been anxious that Mr. Lupin wasn’t enjoying himself, but after carefully watching him during dinner and now during drinks, Sirius realized Mr. Lupin had been shrewdly observing and analyzing their conversations. Now, Mr. Lupin seemed more open and relaxed, nursing a glass of whiskey in one hand, sitting casually in the armchair opposite the couch Sirius and James were occupying.

“Mr. Lu - pardon - Remus. Do you have any plans while you’re in London?”

Remus smiled a little at James’ quick self-correction, gently swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Not really. I’d like to see some of the city, maybe explore the countryside a bit.”  
Setting aside his own glass, James clapped his now free hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “Well! If you need someone to show you around the city, Sirius is the man for the job!”

Nearly choking on his whiskey, Sirius coughed a few times and shot a quick look at James. “What? Me?”

“But of course! Who knows the best parts of London better than you, my good lad?” James turned back to Remus, completely unphased by Sirius’ murderous stare. “I’m sure Sirius would love to show you around sometime.”

Prying his eyes away from James, deciding he would most definitely murder him later, Sirius chanced a look over to Mr. Lupin, guaging his reaction.

Remus kept his expression mostly neutral, though there was a ghost of a smile about his features as he replied to James. “That’s very kind, but I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

Sirius was caught off guard when Mr. Lupin's eyes flickered over to him, suddenly feeling guilty. “Bother? Nonsense, I would be more than happy to be your guide around the city.”

Remus’ eyebrows lifted slightly. “Really? From what I recall of our first meeting, you didn’t seem too fond of the city.”

Unable to hold his gaze any longer, Sirius glanced away, clearing his throat slightly as he lifted his glass of whiskey. “Yes, well, that’s only the stuffy, dull parts of the city.” He sipped his whiskey quickly, feeling the warmth spread through him and soothe his rising heartbeat. “We’ll avoid those places entirely, unless we feel the need to cast our judgement upon society.”

Mr. Lupin did smile then, just a little one, but Sirius counted it as a victory regardless.  
“In that case, maybe I will take you up on your offer in the future.”

Peter, who had been distracted looking through the heavy bookshelves along one wall, suddenly turned back to the other three. “Remus, didn’t you promise to play for us after supper?”

Sirius felt something jump in his chest, he was uncertain how to interpret the sudden reaction, and he tried to keep it from spreading to his face as he glanced from Peter to Mr. Lupin. The latter was looking to James as if to ask his permission.

“If you would be so indulging, I would be honored to have you play for us,” James said eagerly.

Nodding, Remus retrieved his violin case from an end table and began to prepare the instrument to play.

Sirius watched, entranced by how Mr. Lupin ran methodically through the motions. Tightening the bow hairs, plucking the strings a few times to check their sound, running his fingers gently over the polished wood before setting the violin aside so that he could roll up his sleeves. Sirius assumed it was to help allow his arms to move more freely, but as he watched him slowly fold the sleeves up his forearms, expression strangely soft as each inch revealed more and more scar tissue, Sirius wondered if there was some deeper reason for it.

Lifting the violin to his shoulder, Remus paused as he was about to place bow to strings, looking at the other men in the room for the first time since he had touched his violin case. “Do you-- I mean… are there any songs you would like to request?”

From the corner of his eye, Sirius saw James glance at him for a brief moment, no doubt waiting for him to speak up. He remained silent, sipping at his whiskey in what he hoped appeared to be a casual manner.

“Ah, I think whatever you feel inclined to play. Be it some other composers work or one of your own, we,” James said, gesturing broadly at the room, “are your eager audience.”

As Peter took a seat in one of the plush armchairs beside the fire, Sirius signaled for Peter to pour him more whiskey. He watched the whiskey catch the light of the fire as it splashed into his glass, the droplets burning liquid amber for a moment as they hung in the air. The color of Mr. Lupin's eyes, he mused for a brief instant.  
And then the room filled with music.

  
The first notes were long, soft, as if stretching after a deep slumber. All other sounds were hushed, each person holding their breath in anticipation for the next note.  
Sirius resisted the urge to stare at Mr. Lupin as he played, knowing full well once he gave in and looked, his gaze would be held captive there. He could not hide in a crowd this time.  
So, he remained looking into the fire, watching the flames dance as Mr. Lupin's song filled the air.

It was a quieter, gentler song than the one he had played at the solstice ball, but no less moving. With its slow, gentle notes , this one may have been even more heartbreaking than the last.

The other was the explosion of raw energy from emotions held back, pressed down until the pressure is too great and they force themselves free, bursting out all at once. This one was soft defeat , the admittance that you’ve lost something, sustained damage that will stay with you forever.

Sirius knew it well. He felt each stanza as if it were a page from his diary, every note tears shed alone. That empty, hollow ache deep inside that never fully went away. Sirius wondered if Mr. Lupin had been inspired by his own experiences, or if he was simply able to capture a tune that felt incredibly personal to those who heard it. The music lifted slightly, a frail attempt at soothing the wound inflicted.

Unable to withstand it any further, Sirius turned to look at Mr. Lupin. And as he did, he suddenly understood what the song truly was.

Scars.

Mr. Lupin had his eyes closed again, just like the first time Sirius had seen him play. His brow creased lightly, stray curls falling over his forehead as he played. His movements were much subtler this time - the smallest of head tilts here, a slight shift of his shoulder there. He was resigned, submitting to the pain and the lasting imprint it would leave.  
Then, he opened his eyes, and Sirius felt his heart stop.

It was a sight that he would never forget, an image burned forever into his memory, a second in time that would follow him for the rest of his life. And, in that moment, Sirius realized something.

Not all scars were born of pain.

Remus’ gaze was cast toward the ceiling as he played the last note, letting the sound fade into the air before closing his eyes again briefly, and lowering the violin.  
“I say...” James murmured, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

Peter was nodding his head slowly, his expression one of having heard the song before, but still being just as affected by it as if it were his first time hearing it.

Sirius felt tears on his cheeks, and he quickly wiped them away, hoping the others had been too distracted to notice.

“I, uh-- I know Pete likes that one so…” Remus said a little awkwardly, his forefinger curling lightly against the wood of his bow.

“I do like that one. It’s one of my favorites,” Peter sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Though you well know I enjoy all your music.”

Remus smiled shyly. “You’re very gracious letting me practice at all hours.”

“You are more than welcome to practice or to stretch your playing fingers at any time when you are here,” James offered resolutely. “It’s been too long since we’ve had music regularly at Elkwood.”

Remus raised his eyebrows slightly. “Has it?”

“Ah, yes. My mother played the flute on occasion, and a beautiful pianoforte my father bought her for her birthday.”

“Right, Mr. Black was telling me it sits in the drawing room.”

“Really? I’m surprised he remembers, considering it’s been ages since he last played.”

Sirius smiled lazily. “What can I say? I have no muse.”

James rolled his eyes. “Yes well, I dare say you’ll recover quickly enough from Miss McKinnon’s departure.”

Sirius felt embarrassed by James mentioning Marlene. He glanced over at Mr. Lupin, who didn’t seem phased at all by James’ statement. Unsure of why he suddenly felt a bit disappointed, he brushed the feeling aside and nudged James with his shoulder. “Shall you be my new muse, Prongs?”

James adjusted his glasses with a broad grin. “I’d be honored, but I fear the music you would play for me would be painfully dull.”

“Is that an affront to yourself, or to my playing?”

“Perhaps it is both.” James glanced over at Peter, who was attempting to hide a yawn behind his hand. “But, the hour grows late, I fear our guests are tired from their long journey.” He stood and bent to affectionately place a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Off to bed with you, my good man.”

Peter smiled and shook his head a bit as he stood. “Sorry to end the night so soon.”

Sirius stood as well, setting aside his glass and throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “Nonsense! We could all do with a bit of sleep, yes? Not as young as we once were.”

Peter laughed at this, a small snort escaping. “Ah yes, to be back in the days when we were schoolchildren.”

Sirius shifted his gaze over to Mr. Lupin, who had been putting away his violin. “Do you require a guide back to your room?”

Raising his eyebrows slightly, Remus scratched the back of his neck. “I think Peter can show me the way. But thank you for the offer.”

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. “My room is off of the west wing, so I shall be heading that way as well.” There was something that shifted in Mr. Lupin when he said this, something that caused his walls to come back up, a flicker of… he didn’t know what, flashed in his eyes for just a moment.

“I see, well then I suppose you may accompany us to our rooms.”

“Most of the way at least,” Sirius clarified quickly. “My room is on the south side of the house, the staircase leads up to it.”

Remus nodded. “I see. Well--,” he picked up his violin case and gestured to the door, “--after you.”

All four young men filed out of the room, Peter, Remus, and Sirius all bidding James goodnight as they headed to the west wing. Sirius was feeling the alcohol he had consumed that evening buzzing in his veins as he walked, highly aware of Peter and Mr. Lupin walking behind him.

“Your song tonight… when did you write it?” He glanced behind him at Mr. Lupin, slowing his pace slightly so the other men could walk beside him.

Mr. Lupin looked thoughtful for a moment, his hand shifting its grip on the violin case. Sirius wondered briefly if the handle might fall off with how it wobbled. It was clearly well worn, but there was a sort of charm about its shabbiness. “It must’ve been… nearly four years ago, now.”

“Have you been composing for as long as you’ve been playing?”

Chuckling a little, Remus shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I composed my first piece when I was twelve, I believe.”

“Still quite impressive, to compose such a moving piece at such a young age.”

Peter, who had been preoccupied by yawning every couple of minutes, chimed in. “All of Remus’ songs are like that. He doesn’t like when I say he has a gift, but he truly does. Like you and your art, Sirius.”

A flush that alcohol had entirely nothing to do with warmed Sirius’ cheeks.

“You’re an artist?”

Mr. Lupin sounded surprised, and a little intrigued, although that was probably only Sirius’ mind playing tricks on him. Laughing a little uncomfortably, Sirius absentmindedly rubbed at his left shoulder. “I have been known to… dabble.”

Peter, looking confused, started to say something but stopped when he noticed how uncomfortable Sirius was. He cleared his throat instead, stretching his arms above his head. “Well I haven’t had a meal that fine in ages. Eh, Remus?”

Remus let out a content sigh. “Aye, it reminded me of home.” He fell silent, a distance growing in his eyes.

“Well, this is where I leave you. Goodnight, Peter,” Sirius smiled as he patted Peter’s shoulder. Then he turned to Mr. Lupin, and bowed his head slightly. “Goodnight, Mr. Lupin.”

Remus returned his nod. “Mr. Black.”

Lingering at the bottom of the stairs for just a moment, Sirius saluted lazily and ascended the dark staircase, turning at the landing and hopping quickly up the last few stairs before entering his room and heading straight to his desk. Immediately pulling out the pile of papers he had been working on, he scattered them about in a seemingly random order, then he grabbed a fresh canvas and his standing easel, placing them in front of the large circular window that took up most of the south wall, before retrieving the supplies he would need.

For a moment, he let his fingers run across the smooth canvas, the thrill of endless possibilities before him charging his blood.

Tying back his hair, he quickly got to work.

~ ~ ~

_Darkness. Then, heat._

  
_Screams. Smoke. Pain...so much pain._

  
_His throat was raw from screaming, lungs coated in ash, skin sticky with sweat and blood. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, now he couldn’t even scream. Someone’s hand was on his throat._

  
_A laugh, cruel enough to send chills past the wicked heat, filled his mind. Black clouds- no, billowing smoke- filled the sky. A wind picked up and sent the smoke in a new direction, the black cloud slowly moving to reveal the full moon._

  
_Cold._

  
_Bare._

  
_Merciless._

  
_It stared back down at him, it’s bright surface mocking the darkness that it observed below._  
_Remus tried to fight. To push, to scratch, anything to break free. But he was too weak, too small, he’d lost too much blood, inhaled too much smoke. He was helpless. He could only lie there and stare at the moon, waiting for death to claim him as tears streamed from his burning eyes._

  
_“Scared, boy?”_

  
He woke with a shout, breath catching in his throat, struggling to escape as if he were still inhaling smoke, still being choked by cruel hands.

  
Closing his eyes, he tried to calm his racing heart. Deep breaths.

  
In. Out.

  
In. Out.

  
Slowly count the seconds.

  
Safe.

  
Grounded enough to realize where he was, he opened his eyes and saw that he had somehow ended up out of bed and was now sitting on the floor. His heart sank when he looked down.

  
His hands were bloody.

  
_Not again._


	5. Chapter 5

Sirius leafed idly through his wardrobe, bored by the contents therein. He would have to have some new clothes made, especially for the upcoming balls and parties James would more than likely be dragging him too.

Finally settling on something, he removed the items and turned back into the room, his eyes landing on his easel as he did. There they stayed as he began to dress, keen gaze surveying the work he had accomplished so far, his mind filling in the spaces yet to be touched.

After dressing, he checked to see that the materials on the canvas were dry before throwing a sheet over it. He didn’t want anyone to accidentally see it. Not yet. 

The ornate clock at his bedside let out a small chime, indicating he was running late for breakfast. Muttering a curse under his breath, he hurried from his room and down the stairs -  much less elegantly than he would have- if he’d known who he would almost crash into at the bottom.

“Mr. Lupin! My apologies, I’m afraid I am rather oblivious in the mornings before a strong cup of coffee.” Sirius’ smile faded a bit as he got a good look at Mr. Lupin. The circles under his eyes had turned a shade darker, contrasting sharply with the dull pallor of his skin, the normal strong line of his shoulders were slouched, and he seemed to be avoiding direct eye contact.

“Don’t mention it, I should’ve been paying closer attention.” Remus said, his voice devoid of its usual warmth.

Sirius had had his fair share of rough nights -hell, he’d hardly slept last night and probably looked less than chipper this morning as well- but there was something in Mr. Lupin’s eyes that formed a knot of worry in his stomach. “Breakfast will no doubt be served in the parlor, James likes to hear the birds in the grove just outside the windows in the morning.” He said with a slightly forced cheeriness. “If we’re lucky, we’ll get there before Peter has eaten all of it.”

Remus was silent as Sirius led the way to the parlor, the latter attempted several times to make conversation, but was met with feeble responses. He decided to let Mr. Lupin have his space, perhaps he was not a morning person.

“Here we are!” Sirius swung open the door. “James! Peter! Good morning to you both!” He exclaimed with a bit too much enthusiasm, holding the door open for Mr. Lupin.

“Good morning, Pads, you’re in high spirits.” Peter said while spreading some jam onto a scone.

“Yes, since when do you enjoy the morning hours? I’m quite lucky to see you before noon most days.” James said, motioning to the two empty seats at the small round table where he and Peter were sitting. 

“Well, it would be rather rude of me to sleep in when we have guests, would it not?” Sirius defended pouring himself some coffee before taking a seat. He breathed in the delicately swirling steam from his cup, the rich scent sparking life into his sleep deprived bones. He sipped carefully as Mr. Lupin sat down across from him, curiosity spiking as he noticed the way Peter suddenly seemed far less interested in his scone once he properly looked at Mr. Lupin for the first time and noticed his rough appearance.

“Do you drink coffee, Remus? Or perhaps some tea? I have a lovely blend given to me by a friend of mine who acquired it during a trip overseas, it’s quite exotic.”

Remus smiled a little weakly. “Coffee, please. I find it aids in the mornings a bit better than tea.” 

James quickly poured him a cup, sliding the tray with cream and sugar closer to Remus as he chuckled a little. “I take it you’re not one for mornings either?”

Remus added a bit of sugar and a splash of cream to his coffee. “Not always, I have trouble sleeping some nights.”

“Ah, I hope it had nothing to do with your accommodations?”

“Oh not at all, in fact I believe it was the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept on.” Remus wrapped one hand around his cup, fingertip tapping the porcelain thoughtfully. “It was no fault of yours, I have had sleep troubles since I was a child.”

“That makes two of us, then.” Sirius remarked casually, spooning some cream and jam onto his plate.

“Come off it, Pads. One must actually sleep in order to have sleep troubles.” James said with a grin, sliding the scones out of reach as Sirius was about to grab one. 

Peter took advantage of the tray being moved closer to him, by quickly snagging two of the scones and placing them on a clean plate, adding a dollop of jam before sliding the plate over to Remus who smiled gratefully.

“Your humor knows no bounds. Now kindly pass me the scones before I commandeer yours.” Sirius threatened dryly.

James relinquished the plate of scones, leaning back in his chair as he let out a contented sigh. “I must say, it’s been good to have company in the house again, it feels like old times.” He sat back up suddenly, his chair creaking in protest at the sudden movement. “I say! I’ve just had a brilliant idea!”

Sirius choked a little on his scone at James’ outburst, coughing as Peter patted his back helpfully. “Bloody hell, perhaps wait ‘till everyone is finished swallowing before you come to any other sudden revelations.”

James -unphased by this- steepled his fingers before him in a conspiratorial manner. “Peter, have you any plans for this coming spring and summer?”

Peter shook his head, eyebrows quirked curiously. “No. Well, besides writing my paper of course.”

James turned to Remus. “And have you? I know you’re not sure of how long you’ll stay in London, but surely you’ll stay through the summer?”

Remus nodded. “I had intended to stay at least a year, so yes.”

A pleased grin spread across James’ face. “That settles it then! What do you say to you and Peter coming to stay for the spring and summer with us here at Elkwood?” 

Sirius narrowly avoided choking on his scone a second time, managing to swallow the fragments and take a large gulp of coffee to soothe his irritated throat. 

“You’d have plenty of opportunity to socialize, we’re always being invited here or there, and there’s no better way to see the countryside than to reside in it! We’ve horses and trails to explore all over the estate.” He turned excitedly to Peter. “My father’s library is full of books that I’m sure would aid you in writing your paper! You’d have the space and peace to write to your heart’s content. What do you say?”

Sirius watched Peter and Mr. Lupin exchange a look, his heart beating quickly in his chest. There was some kind of unspoken communication between them, and Sirius’ curiosity rose further.

“Of course you’ll need time to think it over.” James said quickly. “There’s no cause for rush, the spring is a few months away still.”

That was the last anyone mentioned it that morning, instead they spent the rest of their time finishing breakfast and enjoying relaxed conversation over various matters. As it drew closer to midday, Peter announced that he and Remus should be heading back to the city if they wished to arrive before dark.

Sirius lingered about in the foyer as Peter and Mr. Lupin went off to pack their things. He could feel his sleepless night catching up with him, and despite wanting their guests to stay longer, he was grateful for the thought of a nap once they had set off.

“It wasn’t my intention to surprise you with my proposition for Peter and Remus to stay over the spring and summer.” 

Turning to see James enter the foyer, Sirius set aside the book he had idly been leafing through. “It did take me by surprise. I would’ve thought a decision like that would be discussed between us first.”

James shrugged. “They have yet to agree to it, and the idea struck me so suddenly it was leaving my mouth before it had a chance to knock about inside my head first.”

Sirius smiled. “Well, that’s not so unusual, is it?”

“Cheeky.” James scoffed with a laugh, then after a pause he added, “it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?”

“I suppose not.” Sirius mused, his mind wandering a bit.

“All I can say is, I’ve not seen you so energetic in months. It’s good to have you back to your old self.” James smiled knowingly. “And you’re painting again.” He tapped the side of his neck.

Sirius cursed under his breath and rubbed at his own neck, flaking off the paint that had dried there. “Bloody hell, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“We’ll be off then! Thanks again for having us, James, it’s been great.”

James and Sirius turned at the sound of Peter’s voice, spotting their two guests descending the main staircase. Sirius’ eyes noted the way Mr. Lupin held both his bag and violin case on his right side, the bag tucked beneath his arm and the violin case in hand. Curious, he was favoring his left side. And - if Sirius wasn’t mistaken - he hadn’t been last night. 

“Peter, do consider my offer, won’t you? And write as soon as you’ve made a decision.” James hugged Peter and clapped his shoulder. “Though you don’t need an excuse to write us, you know.”

Peter beamed. “I will! See you later, James.” He turned to bid goodbye to Sirius as well. “Don’t you forget to write me now that I’m back in London, it’s been ages since I’ve gotten a letter from you.”

Sirius smiled. “I shall remedy that post haste. It’s good to have you back, old boy.” He ruffled Peter’s hair affectionately.

Peter chuckled and swiped Sirius’ hand away, exiting the house to load his things into the carriage.

James had bid his goodbye to Remus, and followed behind Peter to check the carriage and driver were all set. Leaving Sirius and Remus alone in the foyer, the gentle ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner the only other sound in the room.

Sirius breathed deeply and turned to Mr. Lupin, suddenly finding the idea of bidding him goodbye distinctly unpleasant. “Mr. Lupin, it’s been a pleasure.”

Bowing his head slightly, Mr. Lupin responded. “Mr. Black, thank you again for hosting us.”

“Of course.” Sirius rubbed his thumb distractedly against the ring band around his middle finger. “Shall I come around within the next couple weeks to show you the city?”

“I will clear my schedule.”

Sirius felt his spirits lift, and he found himself incapable of suppressing the pleased smile that suddenly spread across his face. “You shall hear word from me soon, then. Farewell for now.”

Mr. Lupin nodded. “Farewell for now.”

Sirius stood in the doorway, watching the carriage pull out of the drive and off down the lane, his mind swarming with even more questions involving the mysterious Mr. Lupin.

 

~ ~ ~

 

As the carriage pulled out of the drive and onto the main road, Elkwood fading into the distance behind them, Peter turned to Remus with a serious expression. “Are you alright?”

Remus shrugged his shoulder gingerly. “More or less.” 

“The victim this time?”

Wincing, Remus shifted in his seat. “The left side of my ribcage.” 

Peter looked concerned, his hand settling on his bag as he asked, “you've gotten it bandaged properly? I've packed extra, and some salve as well. You know...just in case.”

Smiling appreciatively, Remus nodded. “I managed, thank you.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Peter asked carefully. “A nightmare again?” 

Remus stared out the window, his eyes looking beyond the hills and trees rolling past. “The night it happened.” He could feel the scars across his face begin to itch, the worst of all of them almost burning at the memory. It cut a crooked, ugly, path from his left cheekbone down through his top lip. The longer he focused on it, the more he could almost feel the skin being carved.

“Remus, you're drifting.”

He blinked at the sound of Peter’s gentle voice, his mind returning to the present, quickly followed by the phantom pains being replaced by real ones as the carriage hit a rock in the road and his aching body was jostled sharply. “Sorry.”

Peter had one of his many notebooks open and was writing something down in his odd scratchy sort of shorthand. “Apologies are reserved for those that have done something in need of forgiveness.” He finished his note and looked up, smiling at Remus. “And don't bother apologizing for apologizing. Or we’ll never break out of this cycle.”

Remus laughed then, his heart lightening at his friend’s kindness. “Well then, to bring up a change of topic, what do you think of James’ offer to stay through the summer?”

Peter looked up from his notes, light blue eyes accessing his companion quietly. “How do you feel about his offer?”

Remus contemplated his question for a few moments, his mind attempting to sift through all of the muddled thoughts and emotions laying heavily on him. “I feel...conflicted.”

“Good word choice. Can you elaborate on it?” Peter pressed gently.

“I have enjoyed their company, and the prospect of staying in the countryside among your old school companions, able to explore and attend social gatherings at our whim, it’s a compelling offer.”

“But?”

Remus was all too aware of the pain coming from his left side. The dull sting a grim reminder of why he hesitated. “But, living in the same house with people I haven’t known long, being exposed to new introductions and the uncertainty of some social situations.” He rubbed at the back of his neck distractedly. “With my...condition, I’m just not sure.”

Peter nodded, staying silent for a few thoughtful moments before voicing his opinion. “I think it would be good for you.” 

Remus glanced across the carriage, his eyebrows lifting slightly. “Is that your professional opinion?”

“Professional and personal, staying at Elkwood would keep you social and active, it would present many opportunities for you to experience different things and help ease you into society. You’ve lived most of your life in practical isolation, keeping yourself from making close friends or doing much of anything at all. This could be your chance at starting fresh, a step into your adult life that will shape your future.”

Remus mused over his words, knowing them to be true, but still unable to push past the doubt in his mind.

“As far as your condition goes, you don’t have to tell James or Sirius- I’ve no doubt they would both be discreet and accepting of it if you did -but by now you’ve learned how to hide it well, and it is yours to tell or keep.”

“I know.”

“So what is holding you back?”

A question indeed. What was holding him back? Why was he so afraid? Laid out it seemed the perfect situation, an ideal place to find himself in. He was a single twenty-one year old gentleman in need of socialization and opportunities to further pursue his musical career. Living at Elkwood would provide all of that for him. So why?

“Would you like to know my opinion?”

Remus nodded without turning to look at Peter.

“I think that you’ve spent so much time learning to survive on your own, that you’re uncertain how to coexist with others close to you. You want to let people in, to share yourself with them and have them share themselves with you, but you don’t know how. And that’s okay.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. Because we all must learn at our own pace, and I think it’s time you started to learn.” Peter closed his notebook and tucked it away, smiling warmly at Remus. “Besides, you’ll have me there to protect you from all the scary social situations and help deflect some of James and Sirius’ more dramatic outbursts.”

Remus chuckled. “That is true.” Taking a deep breath, he let it out all at once. “Well then, I suppose you best write to James once we arrive back at your flat.”

Peter’s smile broadened, and he nodded. “Right! I shall, and start making preparations for our move, I know it is still a couple of months away but we will have a fair amount of packing to do- I’ll need all my research and-oh! I must remember to send word to my family in case they need to reach me, as well as-”

Peter’s mumblings faded as Remus’ mind drifted off once more, his gaze following the path of the sun as it sank lower on the horizon. As he let his mind wander, he found it curiously thinking of a pair of stormy grey eyes, and the secrets they held.


	6. Chapter Six

“Hold still, unless you want to be stuck with another pin.”

  
Sirius did as he was instructed, fighting the urge to fidget as careful hands pinched at the fabric around his wrist. “I thought you quite liked sticking me with pins, Mary darling.”

  
She smiled as she adjusted his cuff and pinned the folded fabric in place at the proper length. “Only when you’re being particularly difficult.”

  
Sirius grinned. “So, constantly?”

  
“Yes. Constantly.”

  
He laughed and then swore as his movement caused a pin to poke into his shoulder. “Bloody hell, how much longer?”

  
Mary tutted at him as she stepped down from the stool she had been perched on to reach his shoulders easier. “You can take it off now, I’ve got all the adjustments I need to make marked off.” She turned and began sorting through her various tools and supplies as Sirius shrugged off the incomplete suit coat and set it carefully on the table.

  
“How soon can you have it ready?”

  
She was muttering to herself as she marked some notes and compared several different threads. “Hmm? Oh I can have it ready for you by next week, the rest of the suit is already mostly finished, just some minor adjustments here and there.” She straightened and turned to look at him, pursing her lips slightly. “You’ve lost weight, my measurements on file are off.”

  
Sirius shrugged nonchalantly. “Winter weight?”

  
“Typically one gains weight in the winter, being less active and eating heavier meals,” she responded shrewdly, beginning to pack up her supplies as she added. “Are you doing alright? I know losing your uncle must be very difficult.”

  
Sirius let out a sigh and crossed his arms, leaning back against the table. “It was - is - but I’m doing alright...I think.”

  
Mary looked up from her bag, soft eyes taking Sirius in. “You can always talk to me you know.”

  
“I know. To be frank, I’m not sure what there is to be said on the subject.” He straightened and stretched his arms above his head. “I am doing my best to occupy my time, I find it helps to keep me from wandering around inside my own head.”

  
Mary snapped the latch shut on her large case and smiled at him. “Yes, I can see you’ve been working. There’s a smudge of charcoal on your wrist.”

  
Sirius clicked his tongue in irritation as he quickly inspected both wrists and scraped at the offending spot.

  
“You were always covered in paint and ink when we were children.” Mary said, laughing lightly. “It drove mother mad that you would turn your school paper into art pieces instead of taking notes as she instructed.”

  
Sirius smiled at the memory. “She was far less forgiving than my own governess, but infinitely more kind.” Having successfully removed the charcoal from his wrist, he looked up and immediately bounded forward to take the case from her. “Let me get that for you, it looks heavy.”

  
“Thank you, it does get tiresome to carry around.”

  
They began to make their way through the house toward the front entrance, Sirius humming absentmindedly as they walked.

  
“That’s a lovely tune, terribly sad though.”

  
Sirius blinked. “Hmm? Oh...yes, it is quite a melancholy melody, isn’t it?”

  
“Indeed. Where did you hear it?”

  
“Miss Evan’s winter solstice ball. There’s a new musician in town - a violinist - a friend of Peter’s actually, Mr. Lupin.”

  
Mary raised her eyebrows slightly. “Really? You’ve met him then?”

  
“Indeed. James and I hosted him and Peter here just last week. In fact, I’m to show Mr. Lupin around London next week.”

  
“Well, I shall be sure to have your new suit ready by then.” She was silent for a moment, quietly thinking. “What was your impression of him?”

  
Sirius’ brow furrowed slightly, searching carefully for the proper words. “He is an enigma. There is a...weight he carries with him, some pain from his past that has set his shoulders firm to stand against it. To hear his music is to feel his pain.” Sirius shook his head slightly, as if trying to cast the mournful melodies from his mind. “I don’t know how other’s experience his songs, but to me, hearing them...it’s like being opened up and shown the most painful and vulnerable parts of yourself.” He let out a long, almost wistful, sigh. “Yet it is a catharsis the like of which I have never felt.”

  
Mary mused over his words. “Often it is the people who have suffered the most who are able to create the most beautiful things. Living through such hardship, and being able to take that experience and express it through something else, it allows the spectator to glimpse that pain, seeing their own reflected in it.” She smiled a little sadly. “It’s what makes your art so special.”

  
Sirius paused, caught in the past for a brief moment, her words had sent him to the door in his mind where he kept all the dark locked away, frantically writing, drawing, or painting away any shadow that managed to trickle out.

Mary placed her hand gently on his arm, and he was back, smiling gratefully at her.  
“I’m glad you think so, I rather consider my art a bit rubbish.”

  
“Well pardon me if I don’t take your opinion into consideration, you’ve always been your own harshest critic.”

  
Sirius chuckled, switching her case from one hand to the other. “I think my dear mother might hold that title actually.”

  
Mary smiled a little and shook her head, but made no response.

  
The silence was broken once they reached the front door, Mary spoke up as Sirius handed her case to the carriage driver for him to secure. “When is it exactly that you’ll be arriving in town?”

  
Sirius flexed his fingers as they were relieved of the weight from the case. “Tuesday next. Around seven I imagine, I’ll be staying the night at the Kentworth lodging house and showing Mr. Lupin around the following day.”

  
“Well, you’re free to pick up your suit either Tuesday evening when you arrive, my shop is quite close to Kentworth lodging. Or you may come collect it Wednesday morning, whichever you prefer.”

  
He nodded. “Thank you, I look forward to seeing it complete.” Offering his hand to help her up into the carriage, he closed and latched the door behind her, keeping his fingers draped over the window frame. “It’s good to see you.”

  
She smiled brightly from inside the carriage, patting his hand affectionately. “And you. Hopefully we’ll be seeing more of each other in the future?”

  
“Well, I do believe I’ve worked myself out of the gloom I had fallen prey too, and I dare say I will need a fresh wardrobe for the upcoming spring and summer festivities.”

  
Mary laughed. “Lovely, no longer friends beyond work, are we?”

  
“I jest. You’ll be receiving invitations to all of our terribly exciting parties in the coming months.”

  
“Good. I will see you next week, then.”

  
He nodded. “Next week. Safe travels.”

~ ~ ~

Remus fiddled idly with his collar, trying to knot his necktie without the use of a mirror was proving to be difficult. Growing tired of trying, he gave up and turned to the mirror, trying not to fixate on the few scattered scars across his hands as his fingers quickly fixed the necktie.

  
He paused, eyes firmly locked onto the fabric at his collar, periphery catching sight of the stretch of white skin that slithered out from underneath his collar. Reluctantly, he followed the path it led up, following the muscle in his neck to just underneath his jaw where it stopped.

  
Gaze flicking up to match that of his reflection, he studied his eyes for a moment as if to work up the courage to shift their direction elsewhere. They didn’t have to look far, the scars across his face were many, and distinctly ugly enough to draw his attention. The ragged one cutting down diagonal across the left side of his face. The three that ran parallel to each other down his forehead, cutting slightly into his right eyebrow. The small one that had cut his upper lip, scarring the gums underneath as well. There were a few more, some hidden by his curls, some fainter, just shadows of the trauma that had mutilated skin.

  
Briefly he entertained the thought that maybe - if things had been different - he could have been handsome.

  
But, it was no use to dwell on what could have been. Things had happened, and he was who he was now, there was no changing that.

  
Turning from the mirror, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, exhaling as many of the nerves and negative thoughts that he could. Today was meant to be an enjoyable experience, a chance to explore the city and see how things and people were different from the rural countryside that he was accustomed too.

  
Yes, being out in a very busy and public place would mean being exposed to many many pairs of curious and horrified eyes, but he had shouldered the stares and braced his back against the whispers practically his whole life. He would endure. Besides, he was certain that the city and his guide would provide plenty of entertainment to keep his mind occupied.  
Speaking of - he pulled out his pocket watch, the metal had turned slightly and there were several scratches on the face, but it had been his grandfather's and it still ticked steadily - Mr. Black should be arriving any moment now.

  
“Remus! Sirius is here.” Peter’s call made him smile a bit. Right on time, and right on cue.

He left the spare bedroom he was staying in and walked into the main room of the flat, finding Peter and Mr. Black waiting there. Peter’s clothes were draped haphazardly on his body, the buttons of his vest done up crookedly, one sleeve pushed up past the elbow. His reading spectacles were pushed up on his head, indicating that he had been working.

  
Mr. Black was dressed impeccably - as always - in a suit of charcoal gray and the softest shade of salmon. A new suit as well by the looks of it. His hair was tied back, it's usually carefree loose curls constrained in a bun. His eyes flicked over Remus briefly, that easy smile slipping across his lips.

  
“Mr. Lupin, are you ready for an adventure?”

  
Remus raised his eyebrows slightly as he approached the two other men and bowed his head ever so slightly in greeting. “An adventure now, is it? I thought we were to just see a bit of the city.”

  
Mr. Black tapped the side of his nose in a knowing manner. “Ah, but the city holds many curiosities, always something new and exciting at the turn of a hat. And with never knowing what you’ll see or who you’ll run into, every day in the city is an adventure.”

  
Remus clasped his hands behind his back, nodding his head in understanding. “I see. Well, how lucky I am to have a knowledgeable guide then.”

  
“But of course! Why, I have trekked these streets since I was a child, it is as if the roads are etched into my very being.” Clapping his hands together, Mr. Black glanced at Peter and then back to Remus. “Well, shall we be off, then?”

  
Peter nodded his head, rubbing his hands together distractedly. “Yes, yes - have a good time - oh!” He turned to Remus. “Don't forget to pick up that remedy I ordered, from the shop on Prince street--” his attention darted over to Mr. Black, “Sirius, you know the one.”

  
“I do indeed, I'll be sure to swing Mr. Lupin by there before we head back.”

  
“Good, yes excellent - well! I will be at work well into the early stretches of the morning no doubt, so never fear of disturbing me if you return at a late hour.”

  
Remus nodded. “Right. Mind you eat something, and keep a glass of water handy in your study.”

  
Peter waved his hand dismissively. “Yes yes, now run along, mum.”

  
Remus chuckled and grabbed his coat, waving goodbye as he followed Sirius out into the street.

  
He shivered slightly as a cold gust of wind swept past, ruffling his worn coat around his legs. Tucking his arms across his chest in an attempt to trap some warmth there, he addressed his guide. “So, where to?”

  
Mr. Black seemed unphased by the cold, perhaps it was the fact that his clothes were new and clearly very well made, or maybe he just couldn't be bothered by the chill, some people did like the cold. Remus himself didn't necessarily dislike the cold, but he preferred to be dressed in far more comfortable and far warmer clothes.

  
“Well! I dare say we shall only visit the places that hold the most interest. What is it that interests you, Mr. Lupin? Besides music of course.”

  
Remus considered his question for a few moments. What did interest him? “I enjoy reading.”

  
“Excellent! I know this lovely little bookshop not too far from here, they have quite a broad collection; old, new, fiction and nonfiction, they have a portion to please all.” He gestured down the street and began to walk, leading the way with an easy stride.

  
Remus followed behind, thankful that he and Mr. Black were of a similar height so his long legs could match his guide’s brisk pace. He tried to ignore the people who slowed down as they passed him, so distracted by staring that they faltered in their steps.

  
Remus wondered if Mr. Black noticed the people staring, if he saw how some who saw them coming crossed to walk past on the other side of the street. If he did notice, he certainly wasn’t letting on, his gait was as carefree as ever, animatedly pointing things out and commenting on them as they passed. Remus was thankful for his casual manner, the complete ease with which he was able to walk down a street in public and give no thought to what others thought helped to ease his own discomfort.

  
“And here we are!” Remus almost ran into Mr. Black as he stopped abruptly, hand outstretched to indicate a modest storefront.  
It was clearly an old building, the stone front and weathered wooden door stood sturdy, if not a little wearily, on the side of the small street. A beautifully painted sign swinging above the entry read “Flourish and Blotts”.

  
“Interesting name,” Remus commented.

  
“Yes, I suppose it is a bit odd, isn't it? The owner is a bit eccentric, but as I said, their collection is fabulous.” He swung the heavy wooden door open and motioned Remus in. “Shall we?”

  
The interior was much how Remus imagined it would be, a bit dim and cramped with a thick smell of old paper and leather permeating the air, it was warm and inviting, welcoming all those with a love of the written word to venture in and explore. Yet there was also something that gently pressed for respectful silence when walking among the shelves.

  
Having lost himself for a moment among the volumes, Remus jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder and a low voice at his ear. “Feel free to browse at your own pace, I'm going to go speak with the owner. Meet you at the desk in, say, a half hour?”

  
Very aware of how close Mr. Black was standing to him, Remus nodded a little stiffly, his shoulders immediately relaxing as Mr. Black stepped back and disappeared among the shelves.

  
How could one be so casual with physical touch? Even if Remus were to be as carefree and unburdened by societal expectations as Mr. Black was, he doubted he would ever have the courage to be so free with touching another person. Perhaps it was the deep seated thought that others would always be repulsed by his touch.

  
Shaking the thoughts away, he breathed in the scent of books deeply and turned to the shelves to explore.

  
He'd managed to collect a number of volumes before heading toward the desk where a clerk sat waiting to collect payments from customers. Mr. Black was already there, chatting amicably with the young man behind the desk.

  
“--so you and Alice are still together, my how lovely, I do adore a childhood crush that grows into adulthood romance.” Sirius placed a hand over his heart and sighed wistfully. “But that's just the romantic in me I suppose.”

  
The clerk chuckled and handed Sirius a few books he had just finished wrapping in brown paper and tying up with ribbon. “Aye, you artist types usually are. We’re to be married you know, me ‘n Alice.”

  
“No, really? Well this is wonderful news! Are you still at the same address? I'll send a gift around to congratulate you both.”

  
“That’s no’ necessary...but if ye insist I'm partial to good scotch and Alice does love those fancy teas that James always seems to ‘ave around.”

  
Sirius tapped the side of his nose and winked conspiratorially. “Say no more, you'll have them by the end of next week. Ah! And here’s the man I was telling you about.”

  
Remus stepped up to the desk with a polite nod. Shifting the books in his hands slightly.

  
“This is my friend, Mr. Remus Lupin. Mr. Lupin, this is Frank Longbottom, he and I attended the same school.”

  
Remus greeted Frank with a bow of his head. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Longbottom.”

  
Frank smiled and nodded his head in response. “An’ a pleasure it is to meet ye as well, I've ‘eard you're a very talented musician. My fiancé is friends with Miss Evans an’ attended her ball where you played. I was sorry to ‘ave missed it, she says yer a rare talent.”

  
Remus smiled, a little embarrassed, but also pleased by the praise. “You’ll have to give my thanks to your fiancé for the praise. I am glad she enjoyed my music.”

  
Frank nodded and motioned for Remus to pass over the books he wished to buy. “I shall. You’ll be wanting all o’ these then?”

  
“Yes please.” Remus pulled out his money purse as Frank sorted through the books and marked them down in a large ledger that lie open on the desk in front of him.

  
“A poetry book, Mr. Lupin? I thought you weren’t one for poetry.”

  
Remus chuckled slightly. “On the contrary, Mr. Black, I simply stated that I wasn’t a poet myself.”

  
“There is something to be said about the poetic grace that music has, perhaps you’re an unknowing poet.”

  
“Perhaps, if one were to count music as poetry, but as far as the written word goes, I’m afraid I’m much less elegant.”

  
Mr. Black shrugged his shoulders. “Just as well, most poets tend to be self important fools.”

  
“And there ye go! Will ye be wanting a receipt?” Frank asked cheerfully as he handed Remus his parcel of books and total for his purchase.

  
“Yes please.” Remus replied as he paid Frank.

  
“It was a pleasure to meet ye, Mr. Lupin, mayhaps we’ll cross paths again someday.”

  
“Well certainly! We must have you and Alice around to Elkwood to celebrate your engagement.” Sirius said cheerfully.

  
“You’ll be coming to the wedding I ‘ope.”

  
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. But I’m afraid Mr. Lupin and I must be off now, much more to see, you know.”

  
They bid their goodbyes and exited the building. Once back on the street, Sirius fell right back into his role as Remus’ guide. He showed him around the British Museum, then Westminster Abbey, excitedly explaining the history and significance of the different architecture and relics. Remus enjoyed listening to him, he was clearly very passionate, and his enthusiasm made learning about the different artistic aspects much more engaging.

  
“--and there’s a lovely local art gallery just a few blocks away, but then again I’m not quite sure if you’d enjoy that."

  
Remus nodded. “By all means, I’m afraid I don’t know much about art, but I do like to admire it when I get a chance.” He noted the way Mr. Black’s face lit up, clearly excited to go visit the gallery.

  
“Brilliant! We can just pop in for a quick spell since night will be falling before too long and we still have that errand to run before I return you home to Peter."

  
“Sounds good, I’ll follow you.”

  
As they started down the street, Sirius paused and considered something for a moment before turning to Remus. “Would you mind terribly if we took a slight detour? I just remembered I have to pick something up just a street away, should only take a couple minutes.”

  
“Not at all.” Remus responded quickly.

  
“Excellent, off we go then.” He led them down a block or two and then turned into a dim side street. The look of the place gave Remus pause, he wasn’t one to judge based on appearance, but something in the air felt...dark.

  
“If you’d like to wait here I’ll just pop down to the shop and collect my items. Won’t be but a moment.”

  
Remus nodded, watching Mr. Black as he walked down the street and slipped into a shop on the right. Despite the fact that he was well equipped to handle himself in a rough situation if he needed to, Remus still couldn’t help feeling vulnerable and out of place at the entrance to the street. He straightened his back and squared his shoulders, glancing at the few people he saw lurking around the corners of the street.

  
“Well, well, well...hello. You don’t belong here.”

  
Remus turned suddenly at the sound of the voice, his eyes immediately landing on a slim woman standing a few yards away from him.  
“Pardon?”

  
Her thin lips curled in a smile. As she drew closer, Remus couldn’t help feeling a sort of haunting familiarity about the woman, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

  
“You, don’t belong here.” She punctuated each word with a pause in between, the fan held idly in one hand tapping against her open palm. “Where have you wandered in from?”

  
Remus grew increasingly uncomfortable as the woman looked him over, taking careful note of his appearance. She was wealthy, he could tell by the expensive silk and lace her dress was made of, and the glittering blood red rubies dangling from her ears and gracing her neck.  
“I am simply waiting on someone.” He replied shortly, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as her eyes flickered up to meet his. She would have been beautiful, he thought, had it not been for those eyes. They stared from deep set sockets, cold, piercing, and unnervingly hollow. He had seen eyes like that once before. The very ones that haunted his sleep.

  
They were the eyes of a predator.

  
“Oh? And who would be looking for you, I wonder?” Her dead gaze flickered across his scars, as if trying to read his history in them like a palm reader deciphering the lines in a hand.

  
“Mr. Lupin!”

  
Remus felt a surge of relief at the sound of Mr. Black’s voice, turning to see him hurrying up the alley, his usually amicable face set as stoney as marble. And that’s when the recognition dawned on Remus.

  
“Well, look what the stray dragged in. You were the last person I was expecting to run into today, little Siri.”

  
As Mr. Black stepped up beside Remus, he wondered how he didn’t pick out the familial resemblance straight away from the woman. It was like looking at a warped reflection, same wild black hair, same sharp angular faces and alabaster skin, they even had similar eyes, though Mr. Black had a spark of life in them the woman lacked.

  
“Bellatrix, how positively awful to see you.” He replied, smiling sardonically. Turning suddenly to Remus, he asked gently. “Sorry for the delay, are you alright?”

  
Remus nodded, glancing back at the woman as she laughed.

  
“My, my, have you found yourself a pet, Sirius? I would’ve expected for you to have acquired one of a bit more...higher quality, but then again you’re nothing but a nameless cur yourself, so perhaps you have made a good choice.”

  
Remus’ blood boiled, rage and shame swirling together so hot he could see red mist at the edges of his vision. Before he could say anything, the woman flicked her gaze back to him and he felt as if someone had pierced his spine with an icicle.

  
“Although, there is something a bit...wild about him, isn’t there?” Not breaking eye contact with Remus, she smirked. “Would he show loyalty if he knew the truth about you, I wonder?”

  
“Haven’t you heard? I’ve had both name and title restored to me. Along with quite a sizeable fortune I may add.” Sirius cut in quickly, moving ever so slightly so that he had a shoulder placed between Bellatrix and Remus.

  
“Ah yes, dear uncle Alphard, I always knew he was a bit mad.”

  
“Well, you would know.”

  
Her cheek twitched, something dark glinting in her eyes. “I wonder what your mother will say once I’ve told her I caught you lurking about Knockturn Alley.”

  
Remus could sense Mr. Black’s entire figure go rigid, and for a moment he considered placing a hand on his shoulder to check if he was alright.

  
“Tell that witch what you like, but she is not my mother, that was made very clear the day I left. I care not what she thinks.”

  
“Perhaps I’ll have a little chat with Regulus instead, then.”

  
Remus did reach forward then, grabbing quickly onto Mr. Black’s sleeve to keep him from stepping forward. As much as his anger was telling him to let go and see the woman receive what she deserved, it was not the time or place, and Mr. Black didn’t deserve to be dragged down with her. Even though he hadn’t touched Mr. Black directly, the action luckily seemed to be enough to ground the other man. He quickly released Mr. Black’s sleeve, who then straightened his coat and looked down his nose at Bellatrix.

  
“It must be quite sad to resort to family drama and gossip to keep oneself occupied. But I suppose without any children you would have to keep yourself busy somehow.”

  
A complete change flashed across Bellatrix’s face briefly, and just for a moment, she looked almost human.

  
“Shall we, Mr. Lupin? It’s getting late and we still have that package to retrieve for Peter.”

  
Remus nodded, perhaps a little smugly, at Bellatrix before he turned and followed Mr. Black away from the dismal street.

  
They walked in silence for a bit, and Remus began to see the words below the pictures that Mr. Black displayed so freely to the world, he still could not read them, but there at last, beginning to peek through, was the substance beneath the style.

  
“I’m afraid we’ll have to visit the art gallery another time,” Mr. Black suddenly said.

  
“Of course.”

  
Mr. Black paused on the sidewalk, a river of thoughts once again flowing through his eyes, the waters too murky to see them all clearly. “There is a lot about my past that I wish stayed there,” he started, speaking slowly as if he himself were trying to sort through his thoughts, “I am sorry you had the misfortune of meeting Bellatrix, it is a fate I would wish upon no one.”

  
“Really? I thought she was rather lovely.” Remus felt a twinge of pride as Mr. Black broke into a smile, the hard lines in his face melting away.

  
“Oh yes, she was quite the charmer at family gatherings.” He shook his head slightly, smiling at the memory. “Again though, I apologize for her behavior, no snake has sharper venom than that woman’s words.”

  
“Perhaps. But I am no stranger to venomous words, and you are not responsible for her actions simply because you share blood.”

  
Mr. Black nodded gratefully, and they resumed their walk down the street. As they waited for a carriage to pass so they could cross the street, Mr. Black suddenly spoke again. “We were intended to be married, you know? Bellatrix and I.”

  
Remus nearly choked, coughing several times in an attempt to shake off the shock. “What, really? But you’re...don’t you share blood?”

  
“Oh yes, first cousins in fact, our mothers are sisters. But the old houses still keep to old traditions, willing to do almost anything to keep their bloodlines pure.”

  
“I suppose you going to live at Elkwood threw a bit of a damper on the wedding plans.”

  
Mr. Black laughed. “I think our parents realized we would have killed each other if they’d gone through with it. Bellatrix was married when I was around fourteen to Rodolphus Lestrange, another ancient and powerful family.” He shook his head slightly. “I liked Bellatrix’s younger sister, Andromeda much better. We were always close growing up, she’s been disowned as well now, had the audacity to marry a commoner.”

  
“How outrageous of her,” Remus added with a mock disapproving expression.

  
Mr. Black nodded soberly. “Yes, rather outlandish to marry for love. Don’t know what got into her.”

  
“I can understand why you two got along, it seems you both have a distaste for old tradition.”

  
“Yes, well, especially when that tradition means living to a certain strict standard that glorifies bigotry, prejudice, cruelty, and a sense of elitism that could drown a fish.”

  
“Sounds like a delightful bunch."

  
“Oh yes, childhood was--” Mr. Black broke off, a haunted look shadowing his face. “--well, let’s just say it wasn’t much of a childhood.”

  
Remus nodded. “I can understand that, and your past is your own to keep or to share as you will. We don’t need to speak of this again if you wish.”

  
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” Mr. Black let out a long sigh, regaining some of his more relaxed attitude from earlier in the day. “Perhaps someday I will tell you all about it, drag all the skeletons out of the closet and count their broken bones. Come now, the shop will be closing soon, and if I fail to retrieve Peter his package I’m afraid I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  
They walked briskly the rest of the way to the shop, it was a small apothecary and tea shop tucked away near a park, the inside was warm and well lit, full of a multitude of interesting fragrances.

  
Remus gave the clerk Peter’s name and a moment later she had returned from the back with a jar of some kind of mix of dried plants and herbs. He thanked her and then he and Sirius exited the shop.

  
They chatted a bit on the way back to Peter’s flat, but the conversation was light and casual. Remus could tell that their run in with Bellatrix had really ruffled Sirius, and although he seemed to be back to his carefree self, there was a hesitation behind every word or action. Remus did not yet know him well enough to be certain what course of action would be best, he wanted to help in some way, but was at a loss for how he could. Perhaps he would mention it to Peter later and get his opinion. Then again, Mr. Black didn’t seem like the sort who accepted help very readily. He supposed they had that in common.

  
“And here is where I leave you.”

  
Remus broke out of his thoughts, looking up to see that they had arrived at Peter’s flat. “Right, would you care to come in for some tea?” He wasn’t sure why he offered, it was quite late after all, but it seemed like the right thing to do in the moment.

  
Mr. Black smiled a little. “Another night perhaps, it’s been a long day, and I think we could both do with a bit of rest.”

  
Remus nodded. “Well, then. Goodnight, Mr. Black.”

  
“Goodnight, Mr. Lupin. I expect I’ll swing by in the morning before returning to Elkwood, to bid a proper farewell.”

  
“Farewell for now, then.”

  
“Yes, farewell for now.”

  
Remus climbed the worn stairs up to Peter’s flat, slipping inside and locking the door behind him. Shedding his coat and boots, he slipped into Peter’s office to deliver the herbs he had collected, smiling when he saw Peter had fallen asleep at his desk, reading glasses askew across his pointed nose.

  
Walking over, he gently shook Peter awake by the shoulder. “Pete, time for bed.”

  
“What! I’m awake-- oh, Remus...when did you get back?” He fumbled to fix his glasses. “What time is it?”

  
“Time for you to put away your work and go to bed.” Remus reached forward and peeled a piece of notepaper off of Peter’s cheek, smiling at the letters smudged onto his skin from the ink. “Here, the remedy you ordered.”

  
Peter brightened up as he took the jar, quickly opening the lid and sniffing the contents. “Ah, yes! Excellent, excellent.” Standing up, he motioned for Remus to follow him into the small kitchen. “This is for you actually.”

  
“For me?” Remus asked curiously as he watched Peter place a kettle over the fireplace. “What’s it for?”

  
“It is an herbal mix that you take like tea, I believe it will help you sleep."

  
"Really? Does it work?"

  
Peter looked up, lips pressed in a way that was just a bit too condescending for Remus' liking. "Well, we won't know that until you try it out, will we?"

  
"Alright, alright - point taken."

  
The kettle whistles and Peter quickly poured some of the water in a teacup with a spoon of the herbs crushed into it. "Here we go, don't drink it down too quickly, the water is still hot."

  
Remus took the cup from him and held it in his hands, letting the warmth seep from his palms throughout his entire body, pushing back the chill of the day.

  
"So, how was it? Did you have a good time?"  
Remus considered his question for a moment, sipping the tea as he formed an answer. "I did. It was...interesting."

  
"Anything you'd like to talk about?"

  
Remus took another long drink of the tea. "Not tonight."

  
"Fair enough. I'll be heading off to bed, then. See you in the morning."

  
Remus nodded. "Aye, Mr. Black said he'd be popping by most likely in the morning to say goodbye before heading back to Elkwood."

  
"Wonderful! I'll get up early and pick up some tea cakes from the bakery next door."

  
"Sounds great, goodnight."

  
"Goodnight."

  
Remus lingered in the kitchen for a few more minutes while he finished the tea, and then he too headed to bed, wondering if he'd be able to sleep with all the thoughts he had swarming his brain.

~ ~ ~

_There was no air to breathe. His lungs were closed off and screaming for oxygen. The dark was crushing him, pressing closer and closer until he was suffocating._

  
_His fingers bled as he scratched at the door, screaming until his throat gave out. Robbed of light, air, and his voice, he shivered in the dark alone._

  
_Time disappeared, he began to hear things in the blackness around him, the rush of his own blood roaring in his ears as his heart pounded, spiders scuttling across their webs, mice scampering through the walls, the faint creak of distant floorboards. Phantoms appeared at the corners of his vision, like the shadows themselves had taken shape. Monsters that taunted him, cold drafts and whispers were their weapons, slowly inducing panic until he was crippled with paralyzing fear._

  
His eyes snapped open, already strained breath hitching when he could barely make out the ceiling above him. The fire had gone out.

  
The weight was still on his chest, crushing him as he struggled to breathe, to move, to scream.

  
Then he saw it. The ragged cloaked shadow standing in the corner of his room. It's empty face turned to look at him, and then it began to glide closer.

  
Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes, slipping into his ears as he fought to move. He was frozen, locked there in bed like a corpse, helpless as the demon floated closer and closer.

  
Shutting his eyes tight, he forced air into his lungs and felt his muscles come to life. Bolting upright, he let out a ragged cry and turned to face the monster. But it had vanished, as it always did, fading like smoke back into the dark corners of his mind.

  
Sirius tore the blankets off his legs and stumbled to the window, forcing the latch open and stepping out onto his balcony, he breathed the freezing air deep into his lungs.  
He looked quickly to the sky, feeling his heart sink as he only saw inky blackness. The fog was too thick to see the stars. Mentally struggling to name constellations and map their patterns out in his mind, he turned back to the room and loaded the fireplace with logs, stoking the embers until a flame caught again and the room was filled with warm light once more.

  
After making sure the fire would burn for the rest of the night, Sirius stood up and pushed his hair away from his face, clasping his fingers at the back of his neck as he tried to steady his breathing. Turning to face the room, his eyes drifted to the night stand, and the small package sitting on top.

  
His heel bounced an offbeat staccato, palms growing sweaty, his heart raced as he stared at the package and wrestled internally with a choice.

  
_Lyra, Cassiopeia, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Aries, Orio_ \--

  
Cursing under his breath, he dropped his hands and walked over to the nightstand.


	7. Chapter 7

“Regulus? Who was that I just heard in the house?” 

He paused in the hallway, staring ahead at the path that would take him to the east wing of the house and to his quiet library, a refuge he would unfortunately have to postpone. 

Straightening his shoulders, he smoothed a stray hair back in place and turned toward the door that stood slightly ajar to his left. “I thought you were resting, mother.” He said calmly as he stepped into the room. 

“I have had more rest than I care to think about.” Her eyes, though shrouded in darkened sockets, still pierced sharper than a hawks. “You have failed to answer my question.” 

Regulus clasped his hands behind his back, fingers locked together tightly lest they fidget. “It was cousin Bellatrix.” 

“Oh? What business did she have coming here?” 

Regulus hesitated, still scrambling to process the conversation he had had with his cousin. “She- she merely wished to congratulate me on my engagement.” 

Pushing herself into a sitting position on the lounge, Walburga Black conjured the energy of a brewing storm about her as she stared down her youngest son. “That woman cares not of your engagement. Don't  _ lie _ to me, boy.”

He fought the compulsion to flinch as the words were hissed sharply at him. Managing to remain composed by digging his fingernails into his palms. “She encountered Sirius in the street the other day. I shouldn't have lied, but I didn't want to upset you.”

Walburga’s entire face twisted in disgust. “And what came of this meeting? What did that abominable disgrace have to say for himself?”

Regulus shook his head. “Nothing of much consequence, besides reminding Bellatrix that he had inherited title and fortune back from uncle Alphard.”

“Don't! Do  _ not _ call that man uncle, he was no brother of mine, therefore he was no uncle to you.” She leaned back on the lounge, twisting the signet ring around her skeletal finger furiously. “Now that the little snake has wormed his way back into a position of wealth and social standing, he is once again a threat to the Black bloodline. He could push to overthrow us and claim leadership over the entire House of Black.” 

“Sirius wouldn't do that.” 

Her eyes snapped back to him. “Do not assume anything when it comes to him, any fondness you still cling to is only matched with loathing on his side. He left us, he has no honor or respect, he would as soon stab us all in the back as he would drink a glass of whiskey.”

Regulus breathed tightly through his nose, choosing his next words carefully. “I simply meant that Sirius does not have any ambition nor desire for power or status, he never has. And as you said;  he despises us, why would he want to become the very thing he so hates?”

“Spite! Spite and cruelty, a final sick joke to play on all of us.” She stood up and reached forward to grip Regulus’ shoulder tightly. “You must be strong, it all rests on you now. You must marry and produce and heir quickly to establish your place as rightful head of the House of Black.”

“Yes mother.” 

“Good.” Her hand released his arm, moving up to stroke his cheek tenderly. “You have always been so obedient, my good son, my sweet boy.” She smiled ever so slightly.

Regulus swallowed and smiled tightly in return. “Come on, you look pale, you should rest more.” 

She nodded and hooked her arm in his, allowing him to lead her over to her bed. “Yes, I think I will.” 

“I will have Mr. Kreatcher bring your supper up directly.” Regulus said as he pulled the blankets over her legs.

“Do tell him not to forget my special tea.”

“Of course, mother. I will come and say goodnight before I turn in.”

After leaving his mother’s room, Regulus wandered around the house until he came upon their butler. “Ah, there you are. Mr. Kreatcher, would you have my mother’s supper sent up to her directly? And she will require her special tea as well.”

Mr. Kreatcher, an ancient and shriveled man that had served the House of Black since he was a child, bowed his mostly bald head. “As you wish, your Grace.” 

Regulus was about to leave when a thought struck him and he turned back. “Kreatcher?”

“Yes, your Grace?”

“Do you still have the key to the south wing?” 

Uncertainty flickered through the old man’s beady eyes. “The...the south wing, your Grace?”

“Yes I believe that's what I said. Do I need to speak louder?”

“No, your Grace, it's just…”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “Speak.”

“Your mother has commanded the south wing remained closed off-” folding his spindly fingers together carefully, he added, “-and not to be opened under any circumstances.”

Regulus raised his chin, staring down at Kreatcher with the most commanding presence he could muster. “Mr. Kreatcher,” 

“Yes, your Grace?”

“Am I not master of this house?” 

“Of course, your Grace.”

“And as master of this house, do I not hold the highest authority of the house and staff?”

“Yes…your Grace.” 

Regulus straightened his waistcoat. “So, I shall ask once more; do you have the key to the south wing?”

Kreatcher’s eyes flickered toward the door that led to Walburga’s suite. “Let me go and fetch them so I can unlock it for you, your Grace.”

“That is not necessary, I can do it myself. Just get me the keys.” 

“At once, your Grace.” 

As the butler slinked out of the room, Regulus allowed his shoulders and expression to drop, taking a moment to fight the overwhelming sick feeling in his gut and recompose himself.

It only took a few moments for Kreatcher to return with the dusty keys, and another few moments for Regulus to retrace old steps to the entry of the south wing.

He stood at the entrance, staring at the large wooden door that had stood locked for almost five years. His heart pounded loudly in his ears, cold sweat breaking out on his palms. He shouldn't be this anxious about empty rooms.

_ But they aren't empty, are they? _ A small voice whispered in his head.

Steeling himself, Regulus slid the key into the door, and turned the lock. The door creaked open like the lid of an ancient coffin being raised, revealing a dim and dust covered hall beyond.

Cobwebs trembled in the corners as Regulus walked past, his fingertips trailing lines into  dust as he ran his hand across the wainscoting. 

He could hear laughter and the hurried sounds of footsteps echoing in his mind as he wandered from room to room. 

The last room on the left was locked and boarded up, but the wood was old and Regulus’ determination was stronger than the nails’ hold in the wall. 

The boards came away from the door and the lock clicked easily, and then Regulus was stepping into the room.

His eyes traced every inch of it, the fireplace that had burned many things not meant to be burnt. The bed that had absorbed too many tears and blood from nights trembling in the dark. He used to climb in bed with him, on the really bad nights, helping as best as he could to keep the demons at bay so his brother could catch even a little sleep.

But then he grew up. And Sirius left.

His eyes flickered upward, tracing the stars that Sirius had painted there, his eyes connecting the lines between constellations as he remembered the nights when they would sneak up to the roof and Sirius would teach him the constellations and movements of the stars through stories about them. 

His eyes stopped on one collection of stars just above Sirius’ bed, his gaze lingering on one that had been painted brighter than the rest.

Walking over and climbing onto the bed, he slowly reached his hand up, “Leo” he murmured to himself as he traced the lines of the constellation. His finger came to a stop on the brightest star, and there it stayed. “Regulus.” The heart of the lion constellation. It was his star, the one he was named for. 

Placing his palm flat against the star, Regulus lowered his head and closed his eyes tightly. 

It was so quiet in the room, the tears could be heard as they dropped onto the pillow below.

 

~   ~   ~

 

“Sirius? You awake?”

Blinking his eyes back into focus, Sirius pulled his gaze away from the ceiling and sat up from his sprawled position on the bed. “Yes, give me a moment.” He called back, pulling his sleeves down and rubbing his face in an attempt to appear slightly less disheveled than he no doubt looked. 

Springing out of bed, he slid the contents on top of his nightstand into the drawer and shut it securely, moving to adjust the sheet over his easel before going to let James in the room. “Did you need something?”

James shook his head. “No, just checking in, haven't seen you since breakfast-”

Sirius laughed. “Really, James? Miss me that much already?”

James caught Sirius’ eye and held his gaze. “-yesterday.”

Sirius blinked. “Pardon?”

“I haven't seen you since breakfast  _ yesterday.  _ You didn't come down for supper last night or breakfast this morning.”

Sirius scratched his head, finding his hair greasy and tangled he grimaced a little. “Since yesterday...I must of lost track of time.”

James crossed his arms. “I suppose so. Are you alright? You've been a bit...off since you came back from London.”

Sirius exhaled heavily, pushing his hair out of his face as he turned and strode back into his room. “Yes, yes, I'm perfectly alright. I simply got distracted and lost track of time, you know how I get sometimes.”

James followed him, nodding his head. “I do, which is what has me worried.” 

Sirius paused shuffling papers around on the desk, his hands stilling against the wood. He stayed silent, his stomach twisting around the pit that had settled there. 

“You haven't been sleeping again, have you? Your eyes are all red.” 

Sirius didn't answer, his eyes flickering over the charcoal sketches littered across the desk in front of him.

“Come on, Sirius, I thought that after last time, we agreed that we would talk to each other. Remember?”

Rapping his knuckles lightly against the wood, Sirius turned and leaned his hip against the desk, meeting James’ gaze again. “No, I haven't been sleeping.”

“I thought you were doing better, what happened?” 

Sirius resisted the urge to scratch at his skin, anxious energy causing his foot to tap against the floor. “Uncle Alphard.”

James studied his friend for a moment. “I know his passing was hard on you...but there's something else bothering you.”

Sirius tried to hold James’ gaze, but his eyes flickered away, moving upward to stare at the ceiling. He could still feel James’ gaze on him as he struggled for words. “The outing with Mr. Lupin.” 

“You said it went well, but that was pretty much all you said on the matter, I had wondered if something had happened.”

“Everything was perfectly fine, splendid even, and then-” he dropped his gaze, staring at the floor as he exhaled slowly. “-Bellatrix crossed our path.”

There was a long moment of silence, and when it became apparent that Sirius would need a bit of prodding before he would say anything further on the matter, James spoke up. “What did she say?”

Sirius shrugged one shoulder. “She was her usual charming self, offended Mr. Lupin, insulted the pair of us and then-” He rubbed quickly at his brow, as if the right amount of pressure would scrub the memory from his mind. “-she threatened to spread gossip.”

James crossed his arms. “And since when does gossip rile you to the point of seclusion?”

“When it is Regulus she intends to gossip with.”

“Ah, I see.” James let out a sigh and ran a hand across his unruly curls. “It’s Bellatrix, right? I’m sure Regulus will ignore whatever bile she has to spill.”

Sirius turned to glance back at the drawings littering his desk, reaching out to touch the jagged edge of one page he had ripped from a book and painted over. It was a vague shape of a head, the face blotted out with rough strokes of black ink. “Not that it makes a difference.” 

He could feel James’ eyes on him, scrutinizing him carefully. Part of him wanted James to draw the right conclusion, the small, scared part. The part that wanted to break down and cry and ask to be held until the world seemed a little less cruel. But as always, pride and stubbornness won out. He looked up and smiled. “I’ll be fine, just needed a good sulk about for a bit.” 

James hesitated, then nodded with a small smile. “Right, well you are rather good at sulking.” 

“Aren’t I just? I’d say it’s one of my greatest talents if we’re being honest.” He placed a hand regally to his chest and bowed slightly. “Second only to my staggering humility.”

James laughed at that, the worry lifting from his eyes. “But of course.” 

Sirius smiled, shoving away the guilt gnawing at the back of his mind. He was fine, he had everything under control, no need to worry James. 

“Come on, get dressed.”

“Where are we going?”

James rooted through Sirius’ wardrobe for a few moments before tossing several items at him. “I'm taking you out around the estate, it's been far too long since we went riding.” 

Sirius caught the clothes thrown at him, and grinned. “Can we swing by Captain’s Peak and see if the fort is still standing?” 

“Of course! And if it's not, we shall recruit Peter and Remus to help us rebuild it once they settle in next month!” 

Giddy at the spontaneous plans for the afternoon, Sirius quickly began to change into the fresh clothes James had given him. “Right! Let's not waste any time then! I'll race you to the peak.”

James grinned broadly. “You shall have to catch me first!” And with that he bolted for the stairs.

“Bad form! I haven't fully dressed yet!”

A fading voice called back from the stairwell. “Better get a move on! You can't ride without trousers!”

Sirius struggled to get his foot through the leg of his trousers as he shouted back. “Watch me!”


End file.
